


Killer Instinct

by calmingss



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, The Slowest of Burns You Will Ever See
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmingss/pseuds/calmingss
Summary: ❝ My idea of help from above is a sniper on the roof. ❞&You never hire a saint to catch a killer. Yet, codename Saint was all she was known for, a persona so elusive it was whispered among the intelligence community. When stolen gas becomes a problem in Urzikstan, it starts a chain of events that may finally drag her into the light.
Relationships: Alex (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare)/Original Female Character(s), Simon "Ghost" Riley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	1. Fog of War

**Author's Note:**

> This book is heavily plot-centric, not just focused on Saint's relationships, if that's not your thing. I like to write about badass characters so expect Saint to really kick some ass. 
> 
> Killer Instinct and its graphics are cross-posted on Tumblr (@yvessaintrogers) and Wattpad (@calmingss).

_24 OCTOBER 2019, 0630  
"Alex"  
CIA with Marine Raiders_   
**_Verdansk, Kastovia_**

Pain.

That was the first thing Alex registered. The throbbing pain held his body paralysed with every breath he drew. Black started to seep in the corner of his eyes, he clamped down on his teeth, struggling to stay conscious.

A _god damn_ RPG. He'd be lucky if he didn't break anything.

The ringing in his ears smothered the pulses of enemy fire over his head. He watched helplessly on the ground as more enemy trucks infiltrated the compound.

_"Watcher to 3-1. How copy?! Alex, do you read- over!"_

Hitman 7-5 ran over and grasped his hand, intending to get him to safety while 7-4 provided them with cover. "I got you- I got you, 3-1!"

Alex felt himself being dragged away from his burning armoured truck, only strong enough to watch his legs dig in the gravel. In a blink, a bullet lodged itself in 7-1 and his supporter collapsed onto the ground.

God damn.

Badly wounded, 7-1 struggled to get up. "Who the fuck is this!"

Behind him, a masked insurgent walked from the gas truck and fired, killing Hitman 7-1. Alex only felt 7-1's blood splatter across his bare arm.

The insurgent kicked 7-1's body, confirming the kill. Alex cursed through gritted teeth, his gas mask muffling the angry curse words. The insurgent paid no mind, briefly inspected the dead corpse, eyes wide when the Marines uniform came into view. Panicking, he quickly called for his leader.

The insurgents took the truck filled with chemical weapons and boarded it. "Move out- Go, go, go!" The truck drove away with the chemical weapons.

Bilingual... decent English skills.

Alex ripped off his gas mask, breathing heavily from his wounds. They were so close. "Shit."

The CIA agent swept around, he was the only survivor from the attack. "Echo 3-1 to Watcher."

_"Alex! What happened?"_

"Terrorist attack- Multiple Marines KIA- Gas stolen- We need EVAC, now!"

_"Roger– Tracking multiple Russian forces headed your way. Sit tight. We're pushing to you for fast exfil. Watcher out."_

He was in no shape to fight properly, but if he stayed on the ground, he's dead meat. Groaning, he pushed himself off the ground with every ounce of strength left in his systems, wincing.

_"3-1 be advised, Hammer 2-1 is circling back to you for exfil. ETA 10 mikes."_

Busy putting pressure on his wounds, Alex blindly sprayed his M4A1, getting a few good kills. "Roger that."

_"Command is sending Saint, she will meet you back at base for debrief."_

"Shouldn't she be in Paris?"

_"She's redesignated. Command wants the Aces on this. Watcher out."_

Alex sighed, feeling irritated for her. The assignment in Paris was personal to her, and knowing her, Alex could count on one hand how many things could affect her like that. But that's how it is in the agency, you never get to choose.

–  
 _SAME DAY. 0600.  
CIA with Rangers_  
 ** _Unknown CIA Site, "Hostel", Paris._**

Leaning against the cold concrete wall, she crossed her arm and drummed her fingers in equal parts anticipation and boredom. Her dark hazel eyes were solely glued onto the restrained target sitting in the centre of the room. After three gruelling months, she finally caught him.

Fedir Boucher, a dirty bomb maker.

The CIA agent nonchalantly popped a piece of mint in her mouth as Ruddiger delivered another punch to Boucher's face, another spray of blood dribbling messily.

She crouched, levelling with Boucher. "Give me a name, Fedir, and I'll make it stop."

"Go... to hell," Boucher meekly lets out, a bloodied grin on display. "боягуз _(Coward)_. A weak girl like you couldn't even hurt me if you tried."

Smirking, she dusted her hands and threw a cloth to Ruddiger to clean the blood off his knuckles. Meanwhile, the agent started to strip off her weapons. "Your lucky day."

She took her sweet time detaching the rest of her gear, leaving her weaponless. Her best way of working. "My friend here from the Army, he has protocols to follow so we avoid any international incidents. But I'm... different. I have no rules. I actually don't exist."

In a flash, she swivelled and snapped Boucher's right wrist into half. The screams that followed were raw, each one piercing to their ears.

"If there's anything you're holding back... Now would be a good time to confess." Her voice was calm and accentuated. She wasn't fucking around and this should make Boucher well aware of that.

"You- You need me alive! I am no use to you dead!"

Or maybe he doesn't. She mentally sighed, reaching for her revolver laid on the table.

She loaded a single round in her revolver and spun the cylinder. "You're useless if you don't give me a name in the next 10 seconds."

The agent only held a cold expression on her face. "I know all about the games you play with your victims, tricking vulnerable women and children." She took aim between his eyes, eyes cold.

"What you are doing is illegal!" Boucher hissed, heavily breathing.

She huffed, that's rich.

Ruddiger stared at the scene, eyes slightly widening. He was surprised that this line of interrogation came quicker than expected. Just as the CIA agent placed the muzzle against Boucher's head, he interrupted. "Agent."

Pausing, she lowered the revolver. Eyes still trained on her target, she spoke in a solemn tone, "You should leave the room now."

The absence of a metal door closing made her avert her gaze in surprise. Ruddiger stood rooted in the same spot, hands crossed authoritatively, "Sergeant, if you choose to stay here, whatever happens next must be excluded from your debrief. Can you do that?"

"No, ma'am. I took an oath, I cannot break it."

"Can you take one then?" She watched as his eyes flickered to the HVT on the chair, a cold-blooded killer who denotes bombs for his sole entertainment and now, whoring out for profits.

A decisive nod from Ruddiger sealed the deal. "Let's end this."

"Roger that", she took the lead and slammed the armed revolver against Boucher's temple. Fat beads of perspiration rolled down his temples.

 _Click_ , the sound echoed throughout the tiny interrogation room. Boucher squeezed his eyes shut, a shaky breath escaped.

"A name."

Boucher shook his head violently, "I don't know anything!"

Stressing her brows in annoyance, she pulled the trigger again. _Click._ "You're a very lucky man, Boucher. Statistically, you have a 66.7% chance of living. Are you game?"

She eyed the man, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, all signs pointing that he was about to break, "I never made contact with Valhalla!"

Sneering, she tightened a hand around his neck. "Lies! How did Valhalla get the package then?"

"I left it beside a _poubelle_ at _Bois de Boulogne_! I never saw Valhalla or any of his men! I swear- I swear!" Satisfied with the steel proof sound of conviction in his voice, she forcefully released his face. Glaring, the agent shifted the revolver an inch shy of his right ear and fired twice.

Boucher flinched with every echo. Staring him dead in his eyes, she raised the barrel one last time, expressionless.

Her eyes flickered to Ruddiger, who didn't look bothered by her actions. She fired one last shot, this time, a loud bang escaped from the revolver.

Boucher fell sideways with the chair, thrashing. The absence of blood pooling around his body, or the fact that he remained alive startled the man. He groggily peeled his eyes open, the blinding white light left the woman standing over him to his imaginations.

"I..." He echoed incoherently about the afterworld.

She reached down to him, grabbing his chin. "Blanks. You're not dead, Boucher, fat wish. You're going to rot in a cell for the rest of your god damn life." Her revolver tumbled right beside his face, making him recoil, "But this? Consider this a fraction of the payback for the women and children who died in your hands."

The CIA agent exited the room with Ruddiger. They were met with two other Rangers standing guard at the door. "Did he break?"

"They always do." She smiled, "Said he dropped off the package for Valhalla beside a bin in Bois de Boulogne."

Blaze 0-3 nodded, "I'll call it in."

"I'll do it, I have something else to report. For goodness sake, go get some shut eye. I'll get some trustworthy agents to stand guard." The group grinned at her.

She tapped her wristwatch communicator, "Saint to Actual, Valhalla picked up his package in Bois de Boulogne. We're pulling up street cams for verification, over."

_"Copy that, Saint, job well done. I've just received word that your Command has reassigned you. You are to leave immediately for Urzikstan."_

"Sir? I retrieved the intel, I can catch Valhalla." She gritted her teeth, careful with her words.

_"There's no doubt you will, Saint. This order came from Langley, my hands are tied. You are heading to Urzikstan, agent."_

The CIA agent released her tightened fist. She should be used to this at this point, but this assignment... She wanted- needed to see this through. The group of Rangers passed her a solemn look, hearing it through the comms. "What about this mission, sir?"

 _"The CIA will assign another agent."_ She pinched her nose bridge and took a deep, controlled breath.

"Request permission to appoint handover, sir."

_"Let's hear it, Saint."_

Her hazel eyes went in search for Ruddiger, immediately spotting the 6"2 Marine. "Sergeant Ruddiger should takeover, he has been vital in this op."

A deep sigh came from the receiving end, _"Copy that. I'll relay it as if it were my own, Saint. Whiskey 5 is en route to Hostel, get ready for egress. Charlie out."_

She exhaled deeply, appreciating the Colonel's kindness. It made her reminisce about her times in the Army.

Urzikstan. That was Alex's assignment. She was hardly assigned to missions in such a hostile environment, it was Alex's speciality. They must really need her on this.

Ruddiger approached her, his tall figure towering over her 5"7 one. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

She scoffed, fidgeting with her fingers. "Nah. A new agent would take days to acclimate, that's precious time we can't lose. Plus, you've got heart, no better reason than why I recommended you. For what's worth."

Ruddiger noticed the way her last sentence lightly trailed off but didn't press on it. It wasn't his first day here, agents like her don't exactly have a choice. "I'm sorry about this."

"Me too." She mumbled softly, aimlessly fidgeting with her gear. "Just catch Valhalla. You'll be doing us all a favour, 5-1."

"Hooah." He passed a sincere smile.

"It was nice working with you for the past three months, Ruddiger. Appreciate it for... back there." She nodded towards the interrogation room. "I'll be sure to write up an excellent debrief for ya."

Ruddiger casually shook his head, smiling, "Just doing what I gotta do, Saint. But I gotta say, that name suits you well... Ma'am."

He mentally cursed, worried that he was trespassing. Some call signs were extremely sensitive. And based on what he has heard, so was hers. But could you blame him? He was still a little high off the adrenaline from the interrogation. Plus, a part of him would be lying if he wasn't curious though.

The agent merely cocked an eyebrow, interested. Standing before her, he was obviously nervous but didn't reveal much.

Huh, she noted, he'd make a good agent if he wanted to.

"What have I told you, screw the formalities." She said honestly, waving it off and Ruddiger visibly relaxed. "Go on."

Ruddiger scratched at the nape of his neck absentmindedly, sort of a sheepish look on his face. "Well, by the time you were done with Boucher, he was yelling something about saviours when we left the room. He must have thought you were there to save him.."

" _Est mon sauveur_. My saviour."

"Fitting." He hummed.

The agent only gave a smile that doesn't seem to reach her eyes, "Unfortunately."

–  
 _24 OCTOBER 2019, 1500_  
 ** _CIA BASE, Urzikstan._**

The CIA agent stepped off the jet, hands holding her go-bag. First thing she noticed? The atrocious weather.

Dressed in simple jeans and a loose black tee, her chestnut brown hair was neatly tied in a bun. Yet, she could already feel the stickiness on her body. Fun, she couldn't wait to be in full gear.

Amidst the blazing sun, Kate Laswell stood a few feet away from the landing strip, waiting for her. The agent took off her sunglasses and passed a knowing smile to Laswell.

"Station chief Laswell, it's good to see you again." the agent greeted with a professional smile, walking alongside Laswell.

"Wish it were under better circumstances, Saint."

She glanced around the base, noticing several tinted tentages everywhere. "When is it ever? I read the brief on my way over. To say we've got a big problem is understating it."

"Still not a sleeper, I see?"

She grinned, shutting the door behind her. "I never do on jets, Kate, you know me."

"It's military grade, Saint. It never crashes."

"I beg to differ." She grimaced, a distant reminder that made her skin crawl. "Anyhow. Where's Alex? Didn't the bastard know I was coming? I was half expecting a confetti ceremony the moment I stepped off the heli."

"I sure hope you weren't referring to me. Cause I got you something better." The door swung open and Alex came into view, his middle finger teasingly on display. Upon seeing Laswell, the other CIA agent swiftly retracted it, cleared his throat and pretended nothing happened.

She passed a rueful grin at Alex, rolling her eyes at his idiocy.

Alex was all smiles, spreading his arms wide. He sure was not holding back how happy he was to see his best friend.

_"Alexis."_


	2. Valley of the Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexis and Alex are finally reunited after three long months. Now, their new assignment is to locate the gas. To do so, they have to align themselves with a local militia. Alexis finds herself reuniting with more than one old friend.

_24 OCTOBER 2019, 1515  
_ _"Alexis"  
_ **_CIA BASE, Urzikstan._ **

Clutching his IV stand, Alex enveloped her into a long overdue embrace, exchanging warm words of reconciliation. She smirked, appreciating the humorous view of a 6"1 man dressed in a knee-length surgical gown. It was a feast for her sore eyes, after months of doomsday work, it was liberating to genuinely enjoy a laugh. 

"You look like shit." Aside from his flesh injuries and his newly grown scruff, Alex felt leaner under her fingertips. The bags underneath their eyes were darker, heavier with the weight of the dark, frightful world that they had witnessed. 

Three months had since passed. While Alexis was tasked with chasing the mess left in Valhalla's wake, Alex was stationed everywhere Command pleased. Texts of good health weren't the same as physically seeing each other. Most of the time, it was a one-way communication with Alex's inconsistent replies, understandable as he was restlessly deployed from one hostile environment to the next. 

"And that's the first thing you say to me? How kind of you, Lexi."

"Please. Your nicknames are horrible."

They pulled away shortly after, the hug was enough to remedy for the lost three months. Although his arm remained on her shoulders, which normally would have earned him a harsh jab. Today, the injured man received immunity.

She turned back to face the CIA station chief, who watched their reunion with the faintest of a smile and morphed back into the cold, professional agent that Laswell knew best. 

The duo sat down while Laswell started her debrief. There was limited intel on where or who stole the gas. Satellite images discovered only the abandoned trucks five miles outside Verdansk, with intercepted chatter suggesting that they switched vehicles.

In short, the CIA doesn't know jack about the stolen gas.

"Your primary mission is to locate the gas and secure it." Laswell ordered.

Alexis inquired, "How are we transporting the package?" 

"Anonymous tip off, zero footprints. Russia cannot know that American operatives have a part in this."

"Third option, then." The young agent stated, scanning her brain for any holes she needed Laswell to fill. _Third option_ was the SAD's motto, representing everything they stood for – when diplomacy fails and military wasn't an option.

"We're on our own." Alex followed, eyes briefly flickering to Alexis.

Laswell shook her head, which surprised them. "Normally, yes. But with the rising situation, we need to locate the gas fast. You will need the Liberation Force on your side, a local militia of 7000 strong. Use Captain Price's name to make contact with the CO, that should get you in."

"Commander Karim," Alexis straightened up. Looks like Alex was not the only old friend she was reuniting with. 

"You know Commander Karim?" Laswell asked for the second time for today, pleasantly surprised.

She merely hummed, thinking _know might not be the right word._ A soft smirk formed at the memory. Without elaborating further, it left the other two to their imaginations.

"Command is not sparing any expenses. Anything you need, radio in. They expect the _Aces_ to bring it home as always." Laswell continued. "Go freshen up. We'll reconvene at 1800 for mission prep."

Over the years, she had mastered the art of reading in between the lines of Command's orders. _We expect nothing but mission success, y_ _ou cannot afford the price of your blowback._ She agreed, failure was nonexistent in her books, for the hefty price would be paid by innocent lives. There was always too much riding on every assignment, pressurizing, to say the least. 

"Yes ma'am," were the last words she said with a crude nod before exiting, practically bolting out the door. 

Alexis mischievously checked her wristwatch as Alex sidestepped down the stairs, IV stand in toll. She laughed, draping his uninjured arm across her shoulders for support, "Jesus, you look like you could sprain a muscle climbing down those steps."

Alex derided, "That's hilarious."

He abruptly halted, earning a confused side glance. His hands brazenly clasped Alexis' face, the rough edges of his thumb contouring her features. A grinned continuously while examining her face, utilizing Urkzistan's pounding sunlight to highlight her sharp features. 

His piercing blue eyes took her in. A little tanner, irritated veins hiding shyly in her eyes, cheekbones were more sunken than the last time he saw her. 

"Alex... It's like you're begging me to tackle you right here–" She struggled over her words as he tilted her head, calloused fingers tightly squishing her cheekbones to counter her resistance. "You _really_ want to fall flat on your ass, in a surgical gown in front of the Marines?" 

He finally released her with a satisfied hum.

"Just jealous that Paris has been treating you so well." He messed with her neat bun, cooing at her irked expression. "Did you get 'em highlighted?"

Alexis peered with a sickly sweet, uncomfortably wide smile for her usual cold and expressionless face. Her fingers traced along where his IV needle was embedded and pressed hard. A pained groan fell from his lips, clutching onto her shoulder blades for silent mercy.

"That's hilarious," she echoed, taking quick nods at his sarcastic smile and nervous laughter. "I'll admit, my target sure knew how to pick his places. _Q_ _uel beau coucher de soleil! (What a beautiful sunset!)"_

She was being sarcastic. Showers were considered a luxury — being tasked on recon all the time, let alone to enjoy the damn sunset. 

He scowled in response, hurriedly plucking out his IV drip afterwards. He watched as she observed the scenery in the Urzikstan base, or rather, the lack thereof. She sighed, "Alex, I–"

Alex interjected before she said something self-deprecating. "Our job-"

"Our job never ends. I know..." She recited with Alex, a genuine smile as she looked back at him. It was remarkable how Alex always intuitively knew how she was feeling, a honed skill that he now specialized in when it came to her. "Just wish I could have seen it through the end. To catch _Val_ –"

She quickly apologized for the almost slip. Alex strained his eyebrows at the unexpected mistake, now understanding the true extent of how her Paris mission affected her – for she wasn't one to be that careless.

Unbeknownst to the public, there were a series of bombings in various parts of the world tied to Boucher's MO. The puzzling detail was that Boucher had solid alibis when it all happened. That was enough for the CIA to launch an investigation to find out Boucher had turned contractual.

That was Alexis' assignment, to find out Boucher's buyer.

He wanted to divulge more, but he couldn't. In order for the government to maintain plausible deniability, every SAD operation was clandestine, deniable. Nothing, even in the face of true friendships, people that you trust your life with, would ever change that. Even the closest peas in a pod – the two of them, knew little about each other's assignments.

And sometimes, it really pissed him off. It made it more difficult to keep each other safe. 

Alex sighed, pulling her closer against him, injuries be damned.

What he could empathize with, was the pool of helplessness flooding their hearts when they get pulled away from assignments they believe in. Coupled with the fact they never get to choose, it was a cold splash of reality that they could only accept, never protest.

That sentence served as a reminder to anchor the pair, to never lose sight of their beliefs. _At the end of the day, whatever you do, trust that you are still for the greater good._

_Our job never ends._

The greater good is always calling. Even if it wasn't the one they wanted. 

–  
 _26 OCTOBER 2019, 1300_  
 _"Alexis" and "Alex", Codename Aces_  
 _CIA Assets_  
 ** _Liberation Force Base, Urzikstan._**

The unsightly, plain cement building stared Alexis back in the face. It appeared awfully residential, pieces of cloth hanging loosely from its hinges.

Stationed just behind the corner of the militia's perimeters, arms folded, she watched Alex slid a combat knife in his left boot. "That's overdoing it, don't you think?"

"Empty your right boot, Lexi, let's see it."

" _Left_ boot." She corrected with a wagging finger. He shoved it back playfully. "The right boot is reserved for a handcuff key and some razors– Which I _will_ use on you, if you keep it up with that nickname."

Alex ignored her demands and rolled his eyes, mumbling the same sentiment about overdoing it. Now standing up, he stared down as she held a proud grin, "Not when it breaks you out of custody from the mob."

At this mention, the playful mood disappeared. She pursed her lips and raised her hands apologetically at the sight of Alex's tensed body language, knowing the joke was in poor taste. He had always disliked it when she joked about that _._ It went silent after that. 

It was in the mid-afternoon when the duo intentionally breached the militia's perimeter to make contact, hands raised defensively. It didn't take past five seconds before armed soldiers besieged them, yelling in Arabic at the pair.

Alex took charge, his voice unwavering as he used Captain Price's name as ordered. The two slowly disarmed as a form of sincerity to prove they weren't a threat. Their eyes met as they were slammed onto the rough gravel. With fire in his eyes, Alex stared at the man patting down Alexis' body, daring them to try anything. On the contrary, the female agent was calm and composed.

_"I'll follow your lead." His head tilted in confusion at her request. Alexis should take lead, they were her contacts._

_"It's been a hazy five years. Plus, you're so handsome. Come on, you'll drop 'em dead." She commented elusively, entering his good graces again when a tiny grin surfaced. "Also, if you introduce me with that God forbidden name, you know what's in my boots."_

_"Hey. Right boot, don't forget."_

_"Look who's a fast learner."_

They were escorted into a dark room to Commander Karim.

"What is your message from Captain Price?" Commander Karim spoke first. She examined the two intruders, eyes lingering longer on the brunette woman.

"Commander Karim. Call me Alex, this is Alexis." Gradually, the Commander's cautious expression was tainted with a hint of surprise – she remembered. Farah nodded an acknowledgement towards Alexis, arms crossed defensively. The female agent's presence was surprising, so was Captain Price's name drop. But that wasn't sufficient to lower her guard.

"I'm listening."

They requested complete privacy for the classified intel. The commander reverted back to her mother tongue, ordering the soldiers to leave them.

"Forty-eight hours ago, terrorists stole a shipment of Russian gas."

"Only Al-Qatala would do this." Commander Karim stated confidently.

Alexis remained seated, her face expressionless per usual. On the other hand, Alex stood up, confidence radiating as he sauntered around the table. She smirked, confidence was the one thing nobody could pry away from Alex.

The man was naturally charming, easy on the eyes and gifted with a silver tongue to wiggle him out of sticky situations. This trait of his was why he thrived well in hostile environments, due to his natural ability to quickly form bonds with local militias, which Command milked every single drop of it. 

She knew Alex had his doubts about the militia group and he wasn't afraid to sugarcoat it. Audaciousness was one of their common traits, they want to know exactly what they were dealing with. 

So she lets him get audacious.

"The Russians make no distinction between Al-Qatala and your people." With that bold statement, Alexis leaned deeper into her seat. 

"And I make no distinction between Al-Qatala and their army. They are _both_ terrorists." Commander Karim narrowed her eyes, "We would never use these poisons."

Alex nodded, the delay between nods still suggested doubt. "Then help us track it, before they–"

"Before they what? Take it to Europe? Or America?" Farah chuckled bitterly, side-eyeing Alexis. Unspoken tension circled the air as the two women's gazes met. "We live like this every day."

Alex glanced at his partner suspiciously.

The door swung open and a younger man entered the room. "Commander, it's time to go–" He halted at the presence of new company. "Who is this?"

"Alex, this is my brother and lieutenant, Hadir. _Alena_ , you already know him."

"Unfortunately." She replied without missing a beat, feeling Alex's perplexed gaze burning a deep hole in her side profile. 

Despite knowing better, he was futilely searching for a tell that he wouldn't find. He asked himself, _what is she not telling me?_

Farah Karim shrugged, humored. The hostility in Hadir's eyes washed away instantly upon recognizing the brown-haired woman. "Alena! What are you doing with the CIA?"

" _Alexis._ " She rectified. "I work with the CIA now," The brunette rosed from her seat, a small nod in her first act of mutual acknowledgement to the familiar faces.

Their eyebrows raised at the revelation. "A lot has changed," Farah stated as a matter of fact.

Alexis recognized the wary looks in their eyes. Her palms rippled in reassuring waves, "I _still_ work with Captain Price. So does Alex."

"Then you _still_ kill Russians, yes?"

"We have friends who can help us. But, your sister decides what's next." Alex replied, tactfully using the situation to deliver this sole sentence that demonstrated their respect for the militia's authority and established the CIA's usefulness. Alexis stared with admiration, looking at the skilful agent doing what he does best.

"Of course. My sister is in command...and their army is still here." Something about how Hadir said it did not sit well with Alexis.

"This occupation must end. That we can all agree on, yes?" The two agents nodded, carefully observing a map of the Urzikstan capital.

"General Barkov's men control the city. We have plans to change that."

"We have no missiles, but we have our ways," Hadir added eagerly.

"If you stay, we can help you, but if you stay... you fight."

Alexis shrugged, her answer was crystal clear. Her lips curved upwards, simply crossing her arms and left her other half in charge. She observed his thinking face, unknown to the world but subtle to her. _A small shift of his lower jaw_ , his tell. After years of experience, they could read each other like a book. 

"Then, let's fight." He answered in Arabic, pushing himself off the table just in time to catch a rifle that Hadir tossed to him.

She broke into a small grin, catching her weapon with her reflexes.

"Welcome to Urzikstan, Alex. Alena– _Alexis_ , welcome back," Hadir said with an equally delighted expression.

"Follow me." Farah nodded, arming herself with an AK-47. Hadir, Alex and Alexis followed her lead to the militia's secret tunnels. It was pitch black until a red flare illuminated it.

"We have intel Russian troop commanders are in town today. We're going to ambush them."

Alexis eagerly squeezed her partner's shoulders. Adrenaline flowed through their veins and their stomachs twisted in a sign of anticipation. Anticipation for trouble, for blood, for faith. 

This marked the start of the duo's assignment.

"Let's seize the day." 


	3. Embedded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the help of the Aces, the Urzikstan militia successfully gained a step closer to their mission. Meanwhile, Alex pieced together the scraps to uncover a hint of how Farah and Hadir knew Alexis five years ago.

_26 OCTOBER 2019, 1530_   
_"Alexis" and "Alex", Codename Aces_   
_CIA with Urzik Militia_   
**_Aqtabi, Urzikstan._ **

Alexis adjusted the headdressfor Alex, checking if it properly covered his face. He snatched her wrist mid-air, staring in concern, " _Alena_ , huh. Haven't heard that in years. Thought she was dead."

Alena was Alexis' latest alias, the second alias created in the CIA and the fifth alias in her career. Seeing how her aliases were on a strictly need-to-know basis, it was shocking that both Farah and Hadir would know her by name. Especially since Alexis had a habit of only introducing herself as Saint.

The silver lining was that Alex could _at least_ pinpoint when Alexis met the militia leader and brother. Five years ago, then known as _Alena,_ her cover was blown.

It almost cost Alexis her life, barely escaping from the clutches of the mob alive. Alex led the covert search in Moscow for her, but found no evidence of her presence anywhere he looked. He desperately combed through every possible lead, refusing to stop even for just a second. Alex searched high and low _everywhere_ for a full five months all while she was in custody of the mob. Until one day, she mysteriously turned up alive and patched up in St. Petersburg.

She never talked about what transpired in her captivity, nor did he pushed. But it thoroughly changed her, left psychological scars so deeply embedded in her that even Alex couldn't reach. 

"She is." Alexis reaffirmed, stuffing his fleeting thoughts back into their respective spaces in his brain. Their gaze connected, nodded reassuringly as she gently pried away from Alex's tight grip, "For everyone's sake, she's dead."

"She _must_ be. You took such a long time recovering from–"

"Alex, don't." She whispered, words coated with a layer of unexpected sternness that stunned the two. "Alena is dead. End of story." The words rolled off her tongue with a shred of hostility. She turned on her heel, fixing on her own head scarfwordlessly to end the conversation. Farah stood by the window gathering intel from uncle Tariq, they had a limited window to hit the airbase and they needed to take it. 

Alex sighed worriedly, chasing after his best friend. The trio checked their ears comms, concealed their sidearms and headed out. Barkov's propaganda was blasted all over the loudspeakers. There wasn't anywhere you could hide from the dictator's brainwashing audio. Blended in as civilians, they walked down an abandoned, bombed-out bazaar swarmed with heavy military presence. Alexis' face scrunched in disgust, steering clear from the soldiers with guard dogs, "I hate dogs."

The soldiers freely abused the civilians, yelling and beating. She forcibly dug into her palms to maintain her composure when she witnessed one soldier dragging a civilian into a store, gunshots shortly followed. The said soldier walked out, wiping his blood-stained boots off concrete blocks in disgust. The blood on his boots repulsed him more than his ability to mindlessly take a human's life.

It was a mess, all of it — _almost_ Hell on Earth. As blood-boiling and downright revolting it was, both CIA agents had seen and walked through worse. By now, it only served as a living memento of why she existed. Cold, she knows.

Later, the three of them lined up for labor work to blend in. Alexis tailed behind Farah, sneaking to a side door while Alex was isolated to carry cinder blocks. They reunited on the other side, ambushing an unaware, strayed soldier who was ruthlessly punching a vulnerable woman. Alex nippily stabbed him with the knife in his boot.

Farah assisted the woman to her feet while Alexis stayed for lookout. "Karim?"

"Stay safe, sister." She was thankful they got to the woman before the soldier could have done more. They broke open a door that led into another alley. "You're resourceful. Good." Farah caught a triumphant wink from Alexis, bearing full credit. "Let's go. I have contacts posted just ahead. They'll have more explosives for us. A bigger blast will pull more forces away from their base."

The small entourage defended each other's six, stealthily hiding behind a truck. Four soldiers stood where Farah's men were supposed to be. "Shit. Barkov's soldiers have found my contacts. They may be dead already."

"That means they are already on high alert." They'd have to kill these men to bypass them.

"Can't go loud, we need a suppressor."

"Find an oil filter. It will silence your weapons.Check civilian cars. I'll keep watch on the guards." Farah stayed as lookout. 

Alex and Alexis snuck into a nearby garage filled with civilian vehicles. "You look for the oil filters, I'll go find some makeshift thread adaptors."

"Yes ma'am," He singsonged, the tension between them already dissolved. They had a code, personal feelings would never be brought into the field. It was a lethal mistake that both of them knew better.

Alexis attached an oil filter through a hollow steel screw bolt, shaking her sidearm to check its stability. She grinned when it didn't rattle, score.

"That'll do. Nicely done," Alex praised.

"I know. What would you do without me?"

He winked, "I ask myself that every day."

They met Farah back at the truck, "Alex, flank right and take the two. Alexis and I will take the rest."

Upon two muffled shots, Alexis dropped the soldier in her crosshairs. She fired twice, once to break through the filter and another between her target's eyes. Unfortunately, the suppressor did not silence their gunshots enough, evident from the new soldier bursting through the door.

And he had Alexis in his shot.

She barely heard the whisper of her name before she ran forward, kicking his kneecaps to debilitate him.

"Alexis, move! I have a shot." She heard Alex over the comms.

Ignoring him, Alexis skillfully ducked a swing to swipe the combat knife in her boot, immaculately stabbing into his larynx in one clean move. She calmly dug deeper, laying the almost dead but silent soldier on the ground softly after she heard a muffled _crack. Now_ , he was dead. 

"I rest my case." She cleaned her blade from the bloodied mess, eyes crinkling at Alex's overprotective nature. He'd always have her back.

In the next building, they lodged some bullets in a few more soldiers and successfully retrieved Farah's explosives. They were ready for phase two of the plan – bomb the airbase.

"I'm sorry about your contacts," Alex said, a statement more than an apology.

Regardless, Farah accepted with a nod. "We have the explosives. Their sacrifice will not be in vain. Hide the gun. We're going back outside. Follow me, I'll lead."

Alexis understood Alex's detachment, sharing it. From young, they were hardened by bloodshed, numbed. The first lesson they taught in special ops was compartmentalization and emotional detachment. Having served in tier-one task forces, it was hard to let anything faze them and throw them off course. Years of witnessing murders and getting their hands dirty changed them.

That remained the case. Until they stepped out.

 _Hell on Earth._ Alexis decided as they came upon a staged execution – three civilians hung alive by a crane. They were subjected to helplessly watch it unfold. She bit the insides of her cheeks, seeing more accused awaiting their death sentence.

"This is a god damn war crime." Alex gritted out in disgust. This whole scene was mortifying repulsive. Under her head scarf, her lips were slightly parted and staggered breathing. A rare sight of lost composure for the female agent yet nobody could witness.

Around them, no one dared to weep, even though the immoral and unjust scene would command angry tears for anyone. Shedding a tear meant sympathy for the opposition and in Barkov's eyes, sympathy was treason.

Freedom, a concept unfathomed by the great evils in the world. Evils like Barkov, each thoroughly convinced they were guided by the angels. _On the right side of history._

"Punishment, for the stolen gas... Barkov blames us for stealing it." Farah stated plainly with a lack of emotions in her tone. Hardened by years of warfare too.

Alexis' fingers glossed over the cold metal of her .357 Magnum, thinking how justified would it be to lodge a bullet in the perpetrators this instant. It wasn't until Alex nudged her forward before she realised she was standing in the middle of a pathway, gawking. Almost attracted unnecessary attention to the group.

That moment, the two CIA agents found conviction in their connected gaze. Bonded by a silent agreement of a new crusade that they now believe in. Clearly aware that they were treading a dangerous line of emotional attachment, but could care less. They continued walking.

"What can we do?" Alex questioned, a newfound resolve in his tone. The empathy in their voices was clear as day.

"Accomplish our mission and put an end to Barkov's cruelty forever."

They agreed, forever it is. Hopefully this time, forever truly meant... forever.

The second part of their mission was easier, _for Alex._ As a man, he could use his cover to deliver cinder blocks into sensitive areas that she couldn't enter. While he had the easy way out, she climbed along the structures to reach the chopper she had to destroy. They managed to plant the C4 charges without alerting any guards.

Farah, Alex, and Alexis regrouped shortly in a safe zone, away from hostiles. "Blow the charges."

"Fire in the hole." Sharp bursts of explosion sounded without delay, the acrid smell of smoke penetrating their senses. Sirens immediately went off, and soon, majority of the military started pouring in to the source.

"It worked, multiple trucks heading in," Alexis reported, crouching behind a metal structure that concealed her. "Let's wait for them to pass."

The overwhelming trucks of soldiers played to their advantage as they crawled underneath their vehicles to escape. Escaping right under their nose, but not before leaving parting gifts of explosives under the engine. Their seemingly impossible escape was quick, under and out. The hardest part was over.

Just as they ran into an alley, they were spotted by an unexpected group of soldiers.

"Shit! Go! Get back!" Farah yelled and they pivoted immediately to bolt out of the alley. Farah flung her explosive-filled backpack in the soldiers' direction and detonated it in a desperate act, blowing their civilian cover. The sharp shrill of explosion attracted more soldiers to their positions.

They followed Farah and ran into the opposite direction, snaking along buildings in attempts to avoid the sprays of bullets. A slight burn in Alexis' arm temporarily slowed her down until Alex pulled her forward, yelling at her to keep running.

Another truck of soldiers skidded to a stop from their left, "We're getting boxed in!"

"I'm going to blow it! Right, go right!" More explosives went off at close range, causing an irritatable ringing in their ears. They expertly manoeuvred in and out of buildings, successfully evading the soldiers.

"Holy shit!"

"You're telling me! Farah, I sure as hell hope you have a plan!" Alexis replied, ignoring the intensified burn in her left arm and leapt out a window.

A putrid, horrifying smell of decaying corpses punched all the air out of their lungs as Farah unlatched a locked gate. At least a dozen bodies were casually littered across the dying grass, accompanied by flies and maggots.

"Farah, what the hell is this?" Alex spat in disgust.

"This is a damn massacre..." She almost couldn't believe what she was staring at – a mass grave. Only Barkov didn't even have the decency to bury the dead. The fire in her heart only burned bigger.

"More of Barkov's war crimes." Their ears perked at the sound of foreign soldiers conversing in the building ahead. "They're coming. Get down. Hide your guns, there are too many."

All of them dropped onto the ground, arms twisted to imitate the dead bodies. Alexis took a deep breath and held it, lying deadly still. Just she shut her eyes, her gaze averted to the decaying body of a child right where she laid. The image remained etched in her mind even with her eyes pinched tight, the outline of it was something she would never forget. A new unwanted memory that would join the other collections of horrifying scenes she witnessed in her years. 

_A god damn child._ Caught into someone else's war. 

She was the last in line, behind Alex and Farah. The gradual softer footsteps against the rustling of grass suggested most of the men moved forward.

A pained scream almost escaped from her lips when one of the soldiers accidentally stepped on her left arm, the full weight of his step nearly crushing her bones. He laughed, chattering in his native language about how _this bitch got in the way._

"Alexis, what the hell happened?" Alex frantically whispered over the comms.

"Bastard almost damn near broke my arm. I'm fine." She winced, crawling up to catch up to them. 

Farah and Alex eliminated the remaining three soldiers on guard. "Quick, get up this ladder, the tunnels are just up ahead!"

She braved through the piercing pain and climbed the ladder, refusing to let Alex examine her injuries. Her spitfire personality mumbled a _'_ _we can bitch about it later'_ as she went up. Well aware of her stubborn nature, he suppressed a sigh and only said, "Stay in front of me, I'm not asking."

Alexis obliged, truthfully too lazy for a debate. They hopped over a stone wall and grinned as more air reinforcements rushed to take their bait. Another left turn later, the safehouse was finally in their sights.

The front door, however, was wide open. "Stop! Shit, Tariq's door is open."

"Where's Tariq?"

"Dead. He would never abandon his post."

A pull of sorrow tugged at Alexis' heartstrings, unable to fathom a fraction of how Farah even felt. Although they were both soldiers, Alexis could never begin to understand how it felt to lose people she cared about every day. It only deepened the amount of respect she had for Farah. Weapons raised, they scoured their surroundings before entering the empty safehouse.

"Clear! Let's head down, get to Hadir..."

"You lost good people today," Alex said sincerely, sharing a look with Farah.

There was a look of longing in the commander's eyes as she stared at the now empty guard post, but it disappeared quickly as it came. "That is the cost of this war. Now, let's take Barkov's airbase so their deaths are not in vain."

"We're in for a hell of a fight."

"So are they. Hadir has a plan."

Alexis nodded at their statements, earnestness in her words. "We'll get them, Farah."

Alex halted the overly eager agent with a raised eyebrow. He climbed down the ladder first. When it was her turn, he grabbed her legs and jerked downwards, causing her good arm to slip from the ladder bars.

She fell right into his waiting embrace, hands on her waist to slowly settle her down. With her injured arm, she punched into his chest as though to prove a point.

"I know that's revenge for this afternoon," She said with a mischievous glint, thinking back to earlier when she angered him with her poor joke. She patted his shoulder teasingly and headed into the dark tunnels, nursing her sore arm. The tunnels echoed with her words. "Never pegged you for a petty fool, Alex."

"Maybe I'm just caring for my best friend. Where's the gratitude?" In complete darkness, she felt herself being lifted off the ground.

With an arm under her knees and another supporting her back, Alex begged her to stop thrashing about and promised he would let her down before they entered the light. He knew her belief about being a strong independent woman, and how much she hated sympathy tossed her way in moments of weakness – especially when she was injured. But anything he could do to ease the pain off his best friend, he would.

"You can shove that gratitude up your ass, Alex." She stopped fighting him, head resting on his muscular chest. Since nobody could witness her weakness in these dark tunnels, she briefly allowed herself to relax for a split moment.

"Starting to reconsider if I can live without you, Lexi."

Farah followed behind the bickering pair with a knowing smile.


	4. Proxy War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexis and Alex head to the second part of the mission: destroy General Barkov’s airbase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of PTSD, anxiety and bruises.

_26 OCTOBER 2019, 1900_   
_"Alexis" and "Alex", Codename Aces_   
_CIA with Urzik Militia_   
**_Al-Raab, Urzikstan._ **

First day into the assignment and Alexis had already received two generous gifts.

A fresh pink and red bruise rested just above her elbow, courtesy from the soldier earlier. Travelling further up her left tricep was another strip of exposed flesh, from a bullet that grazed her while they were running for their lives. She scoffed at the addition of new injuries, hastily ripping off a gauze to bandage the wound and hoped they wouldn't scar.

Struggling single-handedly, she managed to roughly rip a jagged piece of gauze. Almost thoughtlessly plastering it against her bare flesh, when without warning, her pathetic excuse of a bandage was snatched from her.

Alex loomed over her seat, crossing his arm. She scooted over the table she sat on. He chastised, "Don't underestimate these flesh wounds. They are small but nasty, especially in dusty environments like Urkzistan. Takes little to get infected."

"This is why I rarely get assigned to places like these." She mumbled dejectedly, watching him patch her up perfectly.

Alex had feather light touches for such a muscular man. She teased, to which he placed a finger on her forehead and _pushed_. He was more tender only when it came to her, a fact that everyone knew. Moments later, he proudly patted his handiwork. Alex lowered to eye level with the bandage, pouting smugly.

Alexis frowned at his suspicious behaviour.

"A kiss for your booboo?"

 _'Dumb ass.'_ Alexis sent an unforgiving hard _flick!_ to his forehead. He snickered, rubbing the red spot.

Hadir entered the room with a few fighters, a brief pause in his steps upon witnessing their close proximity, "Alena... How are your wounds?"

From her peripheral vision, Alex subtly bit his lip and roughly tossed the bunch of bandage into the medkit. "Not Alena– " She placed an easing hand over his to silence him.

"I'm still alive. Are we ready?"

"Always about work, Alexis. You hardly changed." Hadir's gaze followed their intertwined hands and chuckled, somehow amused by their reactions. "I set up shop on the edge of Barkov's base. Keep those fucking dogs in check. Friends close, enemies closer. No grenades, so we improvise."

He handed them bottles of molotov cocktail. Impressive, for what scraps it was made out of. Alex echoed the same sentiment.

"What, you think we fight this war with sticks and stones?"

Sensing the pricks in Hadir's words, she quickly hopped off the table and patted Hadir's back. "With sharpened sticks and a big enough stone, why not?"

They followed Hadir to the roof. "You are too optimistic, Alexis." She laughed at that statement. "Those bastards only understand violence... So I show them violence."

"Violence is not a catalyst, it is a diversion. Too much of it, the evil it does is permanent, Hadir."

"You'd have to send me more English dictionaries, Alexis." Hadir cheekily replied in his mother tongue. "Barkov has an air force, so we have one too. RC planes loaded with C4."

Witnessing the unfamiliar grittier edge in Hadir, Alexis thought back to her first encounter with the siblings. It wasn't hard to read Hadir, the man was practically wearing his heart on his sleeves. One could say that pointed to a certain amount of naivety, but she liked it, a kind of genuine rare in their line of work.

 _Headstrong, direct, loyal_ , three words used to describe Hadir and it would be the truest thing one could hear. Like his sister, Hadir didn't quite fit in the mold. Five years ago, the lieutenant possessed a vivid sparkle in his eyes that was lacking in his sister. Always eager for a fight, a true never-backing-down-spirit. Today, the light dulled.

But what would she know? _Perhaps that was the unfortunate cost of living in a civil war._

When they reached the roof, the sun had long set, leaving behind a cast of darkness that enveloped the sky. Even in nightfall, Urkzistan still felt like a hundred degrees, but the staggered waves of wind did some to alleviate the heat.

Alex and Alexis each grabbed a remote controller for the RC planes, crashing it into the army's helicopters. There was some excitement in using amateur, yet creative equipment like these, evident in her uncharacteristically large grin. "Good hunting."

"Stay low. The airbase is ahead."

The drones flew over the hill to the airbase's tarmac. Using the bird's eye view, she expertly memorized the tarmac's landscapes before crashing her drone into a target. The remaining helicopters exploded upon impact, illuminating the night sky in a series of twisted fireworks.

"Good flying, brothers and sisters... Let's get down there." Farah praised, a smile at bay. Weapons in hand, they hopped down to the airbase's perimeter.

"Airbase perimeter is dead ahead! Second team will cover us with the cannon." Hadir yelled over the sounds of the explosions.

Alexis subconsciously reloaded her M4A1 while Alex requested for air support. His words barely registered in her brain as a bout of anxiety hit her, feeling choked. Her grip tightened on her rifle, forcing big intakes of oxygen into her burning lungs. She quickly released her fingers in an attempt to fulfil the urge to feel the Earth under her, big handfuls of sand, dirt and grass.

Her heart thudded painfully in her throat, telling herself, 'You're okay. You're okay, you're here. _Breathe_.'

 _"Copy, 3-1. I'm tasking an unmarked gunship to your position, stand by."_ A muffled reply from her comms grounded her back into reality, _she was here, this was happening._

Alexis hurriedly looked around, everyone else was too focused on the plan to notice her. Like it never happened, she forced herself to swallow the thickness in her throat, and along with that, her fear. She packed her emotions into a box and pushed it far into the back corner of her mind.

Alexis placed her all her focus, hyper-fixated on one thing: _survive._

"Roger that," Alex replied, crouching beside Alexis. They were surrounded by the full force of the militia. Their spirits were contagious, feeding her a much needed level of adrenaline and confidence.

"Get ready! We attack their armories, take their weapons, and take their airfield! Cousins– we fight to free Urzikstan and take back our country. _For Urzikstan!_ " A mortar cannon fired to breach the airfield's perimeter walls. That was it, upon Farah's orders, everyone sprinted, guns blazing into the south wall of the airbase.

It was like clockwork, shooting, running and hiding behind covers. She slipped back into familiarity, the anxiety in her dissolved and overtook by a rush need for survival and adrenaline.

The two CIA agents worked seamlessly, benefits from the countless missions that shaped their chemistry. She glared at Alex, annoyed when he stole her shot. He shrugged, firing his rifle while branding an excuse. Truthfully, he just liked to piss her off.

"You were distracted."

"I'll give _you_ something to be distracted about." Her words mixed with more tautness than normal, but in the midst of all that blood and fighting, Alex didn't pick up on it.

"Hm. Wouldn't be the first time."

Alexis specially took a break from firing to throw her middle finger up. She aimed her carbine at the snipers on the watchtower opposite her. Two sharp bursts later, they lifelessly fell over the tower.

"Good job, Alexis! Watchtower is clear! Move in, move in!" Farah yelled and they pushed further into the base. Following behind Farah's team, Alexis and Alex flanked left, two sharpshooters ridding of enemy hostiles within seconds.

The enemy backup came instantly —two helicopters hovering over the airbase. The heavy fire forced them behind a tiny wooden crate. Lucky for them, Hadir's plan was foolproof. He loaded just enough RC planes, and more. Alex took remote control of the RC planes.

Seeing their cover was so small, Alex immediately shielded her with himself, hugging her as tightly as he could to minimize their exposure. Alexis quickly reached for a Molotov but paused. A crafty smirk as she kicked around for the biggest piece of concrete she could throw. She looped a tactical rope over the rock.

"Take the southeast one, this one's mine!" She ordered, blindly nudging Alex's knees and pointed at the helicopter just 300 yards shy from their position.

"With a rock?" Alex bewilderedly asked, multitasking while controlling the RC planes.

"Mind your business, I'm a good shot. Remember Cairo...?" Alexis trailed off to close her right eye in concentration.

"Unfortunately."

She filtered through the comms, "Hadir! Watch this!"

Eyeing for the tail rotor _(the weakest link in a helicopter),_ she used the length of the rope as torque, then _released_. The heavy weight of the rock propelled it forward, the rope entangled among the spinning blades before the block of concrete broke its spin. Small sparks ignited as the blades came in contact with the object. Within seconds, the tail rotor failed, causing the helicopter to spin uncontrollably.

It crashed into a flower of sparks and fire. Alex whistled lowly in admiration at the sight, a mumbled _'damn'_ escaping from his lips.

"What did I say about finding a big enough stone?"

_"Well played, I guess you don't have to send me more books, Alexis!"_

"Visual learner, then." Lady Luck certainly was shining down bright on her, blessing her with good timing and that majority was the work of the pilot's own anxiety. _Not that she would ever tell._ She winked at Alex, jerking her head at the other destroyed chopper.

A number of militia members also witnessed the fiasco, all shouting Arabic words of praises. Her stunt did wonders to renew their fighting spirits. They pushed right towards the first armory.

Alexis waited for the most apposite timing before sprinting to her next cover, flawlessly lodging bullets in the new waves of snipers on a hangar's roof. She spotted a distinct red building. "3-1, got eyes on the armory."

 _"Copy that, I see it too. Two tangos, let's drop 'em."_ They cleared the armory for reloading.

_"Good work, both of you! Regroup outside! Tarmac is through the gate. Everyone to the gate!"_

Alexis was a phoenix on the battlefield. Her presence mighty, fearless and deadly within a single shot. Years of experience flowing in her blood, every move was calculated and precise. _One shot, one kill,_ she dropped targets effortlessly. She knew exactly where and when to shoot, throw a grenade or to advance. It was compelling to see her move.

It had been longer than five minutes and yet, their air support still was nowhere near them. She was growing impatient, this tarmac was the turning point vital for their success. As another round of hellfire rained down, more of their own got caught in the crossfire. They helplessly watched as grunts of pains called out, watching comrades pierced with rounds of ammunition dropped dead beside them.

"Saint to Watcher, we are taking heavy fire from enemy helis! Get us that air support, _now_!" The chopper was late, and the agent was _furious_ watching others pay the price. She'd be damned if she cared if her tone was ' _appropriate'._

Switching to a crawling position, a sudden pain shot from her arm. She groaned mid-shot, knowing the bandage came loose and her dive roll into the sand and dust did not help. She stayed to clear stragglers while the rest pushed through the barracks to advance further into the tarmac.

_"Sister! The tarmac is ahead of us!"_

_"I see it! Brother, get us more planes in the air!"_ Hadir tried, but in a turn of events, the militia's safehouse was under attack.

 _Fuck_. She didn't like how the tables were turning. They really needed that damn helo _._

 _"My planes are down. We need air support. If you guys really want to help us, now is the time!"_ Hadir pleaded.

Alex nodded reassuringly, _"We have a helo on the way! We're on our own until then! Where's the last armory?"_

_"In that hangar across the tarmac! We take it and the base is ours!"_

_"Roger that! Saint,"_ Alex called for her. _"Race you there."_

"Rog." She replied lazily, pushing herself off the ground and charged to the next armory. "Let's end this."

Alexis ran past the second hangar, where Farah and her soldiers were successfully sweeping up the enemies. Catching her breath, she met an awaiting Alex outside the armory, a displayed triumphant smirk since he reached first.

Hushed whispers came from inside, revealing their headcount. In the same formation, they boosted each other on top of the armory to reach a latch. On the count of three, Alexis used all her strength to open the heavy latch door for Alex to snipe the three soldiers.

"Last armory is secure. Resupply on us." Alex commented. Both of them busied refilling their ammunition. She caught with ease as Alex tossed an unloaded sniper rifle. Her lips curved upwards approvingly. "A Windrunner...? You are too good to a lady, Echo 3-1..."

Alex watched her hands appreciatively glided along the .50 BMG's body with a grin, knowing it was her perfect weapon. Her happiness was short lived when the airbase power was cut off, leaving them in the dark. He shrugged as she returned it and left. Without a thermal scope, it was useless to them.

"I hear incoming!" Farah alerted as more tanks rolled up to the hangar. Alexis cursed, this was never ending without their helos.

"Shit! Alexis, we could really use some help here!"

Her comms sounded, _"Echo 3-1, Viper 1-1 on approach. Ready for tasking. What's your position?"_

 _'Oh hell yes'_ , she thought, immediately ceasing fire and slumped on the ground to regain her energy.

"Viper, this is 3-1. God damn good to hear your voice!" Alex conveyed in relief. "Friendlies in the hangar, taking fire from troops on the tarmac. You are cleared hot!"

"Farah, Hadir! Get your people to stay inside the hangar!" Alexis shouted, pointing at the helo. The siblings nodded in gratitude.

"Saint to Viper, did you take a nap or something?" Alexis thought she recognized Viper's voice and callsign. Beside her, Alex almost had a cardiac arrest from her unexpected accusatory tone.

Instead, a chuckle came from the receiving end. _"Saint! We ran into a little fuel situation at baseplate. How many times must I save your pretty ass?"_

Alex glanced questionably. ' _He had a crush_ ' she mouthed, waving dismissively. Alex rolled his eyes in response, of course he did.

All of them remained in the hanger while Viper cleaned up. As they looked around, their headcount was drastically reduced. This sucked —she hated this part. The part where they paid the price, a hefty one, even for the victorious.

A sudden burst of gunfire shot into the hangar, barely missing the lot. "Jesus!" Alex commented, equally taken aback.

Alexis yelled into the comms, "Viper, do you mind doing a little landscaping – a tank right outside the hangar! Pretty sure we almost fucking died!"

 _"_ _Copy. Anything for you_ _,_ _Saint_ _."_ Alexis was about to call Viper out for his inappropriate comments, but since Viper was the one saving their asses, she stopped and settled for an unsatisfying eye-roll. From the annoyed expression, it was clear Alex felt the same.

After a few rockets and hellfire from Viper, they successfully claimed the airbase. _"All targets destroyed. Tarmac is cleared of enemy movement, over."_ She looked to Farah, a warm smile slipping on the commander's face.

They won. They took the airbase and shoved it where it would hurt Barkov. Without air support, his army would face tremendous setbacks.

"Solid copy, Viper 1-1. Appreciate the high heat, don't be a stranger." Alex thanked.

_"Never by choice, 3-1. Nice to hear from you again, Saint, hope to see you at the next one! Viper, out."_

"Don't I know it! Echo and Saint, out." Alex interjected before she could even _touch_ her comms.

Walking through the empty airbase, her adrenaline pumped at the sweet taste of victory. For Alex and her, victory was probably their only constant. The taste no longer revelled on their tongues the same way it used to —watered down after hundreds of missions. To them, today would have been just another victory tucked under their belts.

But for the Liberation Force, they were a step closer to freeing themselves from the cage Barkov ruthlessly shoved them in.

As Alexis, Alex, Hadir and Farah surveyed the scene of their victory, a once foreign feeling of contentment coursed through her veins. From the look on Alex's face and the way he ethnically perched his arm over her, he definitely felt that way too.

"So you do kill Russians." Hadir said jovially.

"Only the bad ones."

Hadir looked to them sincerely. "Today was a great victory for Urzikstan. Thank you, brother and sister."

"We make a good team." Alex passed a genuine smile, proud.

Alexis huffed, looping her arms around the siblings endearingly as if to stake her claim. Her uncharacteristic affection shocked him, even though he was aware of their history. "Welcome tothe team, Alex."

Farah smiled. "Yes, we've bought time, but Barkov _will_ retaliate."

"So will we." Hadir finished. They'd be more than ready.

They had no idea where this war was going to take them. However, one thing was for sure. When they were done with this assignment, Roman Barkov would be dead. It was a promise they swore upon.

Farah glanced at her team. After today, they were _comrades_.


	5. The Way It Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and angst. Price finally makes an appearance! First fight between Alexis and Alex and an interesting revelation...;) & glimpse of Alexis’ childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of alcohol & rough childhood.

_26 OCTOBER 2019, 2200  
"Alexis" and "Alex", Codename Aces  
CIA agents with Urzik militia  
_ _**A**_ _ **l-Raab**_ _ **, Urzikstan.** _

"What was that?"

Alexis stormed forward, harshly jabbing her partner's back. They were taking the scenic walk back to the militia's base. While Farah and Hadir walked ahead of them, Alexis and Alex lagged behind to breath in the scenes of their victory.

"What was what?" Alex perplexed, cheekily plucking a few yellow chrysanthemums off the road and waving it in her face.

Alexis took the tiny flowers, a warm smile on display as she admired the adversity these flowers had to bloom in a place like this. Then it faltered upon realising it was an attempt to distract her. "You radioed Viper for me. That's against the rules."

Alex quickly brushed her off and walked into the militia's armory, Alexis hot on his trail. Standing in silence as they waited for the room to clear. "Since when are you one for following the rules? What, you wanted to personally say bye to him?"

What the hell, that took her by surprise. Where did _that_ come from? "I only follow the rules to keep you out of trouble. Sorry for caring."

The hardened look in Alex's eye softened, "I was doing you a _favour,_ come on! Viper was outrightly hitting on you over the comms. If Laswell wanted to bitch about it, you could get dragged into his mess." He shrugged and busied himself with removing his gear.

"Because minor flirting is worse than trashy comms etiquette?"

Alex stretched obnoxiously loud.

"No, _fraternization_ is." That stung more than it should.

"That's a bit hypocritical, isn't it?" Spurts of anger gnawing at her rationale incited her to spit those words without hesitation —instantly regretting it. From the nostalgic look on Alex's face, he must have realised they were in a loop again. The last time they had this conversation, it didn't end well.

To put this delicately, Alexis and Alex were _no_ strangers at fraternization. It happened one time after she returned from St. Petersburg, a drunken mistake that Alex agreed. Overtaken by choking wave of emotions —vulnerability, lust, the need to feel safe. It was the first time Alexis was desperate enough to ask for something, and Alex gave it to her. Like moths drawn to a flame, lonely agents like themselves, cut off from the rest of the world, take whatever comfort they can get.

They left that night without ever mentioning it again. Only the next drunken time _(clearly not a good drinker)_ when she accidentally mentioned it —her mistake for assuming it meant... more.

_Alex_ assured her it wasn't. It did some serious damage to their friendship for a while. After a few weeks, everything snapped back into the exact same, best friends and partners for life.

Now, leaning against a counter, she searched for any answers in his eyes. One thought crossed her mind — _maybe_ he was jealous...? Impossible, she deserted the thought, Alex had never been the jealous type.

Plus, what happened was a one-time thing. It wouldn't, or rather, _couldn't_ happen again. Alexis couldn't lose him too.

"Maybe." Alex murmured, refusing to meet her eyes, his jaw clenched tight while cleaning his rifle, the chiselled jawline highlighted from his profile. Wide-eyed, the female agent slowly cleared her throat, scattering to form a reply.

Alex's satellite phone rang, breaking the tense silence. Saved by the bell.

Speak of her and she shall appear —it was Laswell.

Alex hesitated, did Laswell really wanted to bitch about it? He was blindly shooting from the hip. The palpable tension dissolved, replaced by a flustered Alexis. His lips pursed in amusement, "Laswell wouldn't. I'm pretty sure she has a soft spot for you."

Alexis was smart, confident, witty, resourceful, _strong —_ the strongest person he knew. Resilience built steadily like a rock, he could write lists after lists. Alex wasn't blind _, who wouldn't have a soft spot for this woman._

_"This is Bravo 6, Echo 3-1 and Saint, do you copy?"_ It was Price.

A nudge shook Alex out of his trance. Excited at the appearance of her mentor, Alexis snatched the phone from his grasps. It was a relief to know Price was on the mission too. Looks like this assignment was really bringing her old friends back together. "Price? Send traffic, Cap."

_"Good job, hitting the airbase. Now that you have limited Barkov's air capability, we'll do our part."_

"Glad we could help. What's the plan?" Alex replied to his field commander.

_"We traced the masterminds of the Piccadilly attack to a townhouse in North London, we'll take care of it. You can put your feet up and rest."_

"That is a command I can follow. Have fun, cap." Alexis spoke, ready to end the call.

_"Not so fast, young lady. I was at the debrief, I managed to keep you out of trouble. If it was up to Norris, you'd be running laps like Viper. Don't get stupid, Alexis."_

Alexis exhaled frustratedly. "Thanks, Cap." She replied in between scowls in response to the burning triumph look from Alex. His hands covering his mouth to muffle his wide smile. By taking his side, Price had inflated his ego unnecessarily bigger.

_"But, you still have to run 5 miles for your insolence towards Laswell."_ Price delivered the ultimatum.

Her jaw slacked. "You're _joking_. Says Norris?"

_"Colonel Norris."_ Price corrected with a sigh. _"Says me. I told you one day that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. 5 miles. Alex?"_

Alex exploded into laughters, no longer trying to suppress it. "Hah, roger that! I'll make sure of it. Out."

The call ended. Alexis had respect for authorities, to a certain extent. It wasn't impertinence, but rather her conditioned nature to bypass it. Coming from _Task Force Black_ —a tier-one task force in the JSOC that didn't even answer to the President, falling into the chain of commands was never needed. Also might have to do with the fact that she started to detest the political bureaucracy over the years in the CIA.

John Price, Daniel Maddox —Alexis' commander in Task Force Black, and Samuel Forbes —her CIA handler were the only ones she would willingly abide. Kate Laswell was also close.

"Is this a bro code thing?" Alexis motioned in between them and the satellite phone, inspecting Alex as he raised his eyebrows in feigned innocence. "Price doing the dirty work on your behalf?"

"You heard the man, he said it was for your _insolence_."

"Wipe that smirk off your face." She mumbled, trying to use a dirty cloth to wipe his chin but he stopped her. If looks could kill... _you know the rest._

"Let's go, babe. I'll time you."

"Aw. How kind." She retorted, thinking how badly she wanted to dig those blue eyes out from that arrogant face of his.

40 minutes later, a very sweaty and out-of-breath Alexis returned to the starting point. "5 miles... 5 god damn miles." She breathed, catching a towel and water bottle tossed her way. The entire 40 minutes was filled with killer glances towards Alex. They both knew the punishment wasn't for her insolence. Price wasn't the type to demand respect for other officers, the man could care less and so could Laswell.

_This_ was an indirect way to lecture her, the brotherhood they had caused Price to take Alex's side. Judging from the glowing delight, this ought to satisfy him. Her punishment attracted a few audiences, including Hadir and Farah, who watched happily with her enemy on the roof.

"40 minutes on the dot. Impressive." Farah shouted from above. Hadir excitedly nodded, showing thumbs-ups.

Past the fourth mile, even her vision started to swirl. Blame the ever humid Urzikstan, it was insane she completed it without hurling. "I don't want to impress... I need a seat!" So she willingly fell on her butt and sat in the middle of the carpark.

They joined her shortly, grinning at her flushed cheeks and breathless words. Farah extended a hand and pulled the CIA agent up, "Steady now. Alex, why did you make her run so much!" She chided, elbowing him.

"Not me. It was Price."

"Keep lying, I'll harvest your toes." Farah gave a weird look at her insult. "All I have to do is look Price in the eye and he's a goner." Alex remained suspiciously silent, but yelped when Farah jabbed him in the gut. As revenge, Alexis smacked her sweaty towel against his tattooed arm, disgusted as he failed to swat it away.

Farah, who supported her to walk, didn't seem to care about her sweaty state. "Farah."

The commander hummed, bringing her inside the kitchen to sit. Hadir refilled her bottle.

"Would you like it if Alex and I trained your people? We can teach them some proper fighting tactics and medic courses. With your permission, of course."

Farah took a seat opposite her, mouth opening slightly before closing, as if she was unsure what to say. Hadir, witnessing this, said with a smile, "That would be extremely kind, Alexis."

A bright glint that could be interrupted as a tear reflected in the commander's eyes. Farah's hand squeezed hers tightly. Eyes crinkling upwards, Alexis knew that was her way of saying thanks.

"Great. We start tomorrow."

The two siblings soon left Alexis and Alex in the kitchen to unload some trucks that just entered the compound. He replaced Farah on the seat, "That is a great idea, Lexi."

Finally, some wind started blowing into the kitchen. She closed her eyes at the relieving night breeze. After today's mission, seeing how Farah's people fearlessly ran into the battlefield was reason enough to help them. Although a good trait, fearlessness can also be dangerous. "I want to help them. We were trained by the best in the world, it would be cruel not to share some of that knowledge."

They sat in silence, feeling the cool air while quenching their thirst. _Putting their feet up,_ as Price ordered. Outside the kitchen, playful insults were thrown around by the pair of siblings. It was heartwarming, seeing genuine smiles and watching them be... normal. It was nice.

Growing up, Alexis wouldn't complain she had a bad childhood. Her dad was an honest man, a construction worker. For a man with such a harsh job, it translated into his personality. Her father wasn't affectionate, but he played a good father by putting a roof over their heads and food on the table.

Her life was normal, up till the very day her mother got into a fatal car accident, then everything changed. It was never said but Alexis knew her father blamed her for it. She only grew up to realise it was _ridiculous_. How could it have been her fault? But grief knew no sense.

Life waited for no one, years later, her father remarried. Lily was a great stepmother, not conforming to the stereotypical evil stepmom Alexis was so afraid of. Lily loved her, but not as much as her blood-borns.

Loved her, but not enough to stop the drunk shoutings, that much Alexis understood.

Alexis didn't remember much of her mother, only recognizing her face through photos. They looked nothing alike —her mother was blonde and had bright blue eyes, while Alexis inherited dark brown eyes and hair. For a man who held an imperative amount of self-loathing, imagine raising his reflection.

She envied the pair of siblings, even after everything, they still had each other. Seeing them together somehow felt lonelier. Emptier.

"I can hear the gears turning." Alex placed his chin on her shoulder, the action bringing her back down on Earth. She sniffled inconspicuously, pretending to use the damp towel to wipe her sweat. "What's wrong?"

"Why must something be wrong?"

"You're making _that_ face."

Friends for five years, it would be foolish to assume something could escape his eyes. Goosebumps raised over her arms, feeling the stubble on his chin tickling her skin. She turned to examine the man who had been through everything with her. Hell and back, _literally_.

Alexis didn't know how she could ever live without him.

"Just reminiscing." She replied, a distant look in her eyes while she continued smiling at the siblings' bickering. Alex followed her gaze, knowing.

"The past is the past, Alexa–" Alex almost uttered her birth name but stopped in the nick of time. "Sorry, it slipped." His voice was muffled by Alexis' hand.

"You get my point. What matters is the now, and now you have me."

"I'll always have you." She recited, hands intertwined.

The usual smirk on Alex's face was replaced with a heartfelt smile, their gaze connected meaningfully. "And I, you." He laid a gentle kiss on the top of her hand.

Alexis and Alex stayed like that for a few more minutes, her head resting on his shoulder. Suddenly, a sound pierced through the peace —it came from Alex's stomach. Alexis laughed before tossing him her rations pack.

"Uh-huh. No. You two are not eating that." Farah walked in to snatch the rations away. Their mouths fell open, watching their favourite ration pack out of their reach.

"Hey! That was shrimp fried rice, proper good stuff!"

"Closest to gourmet." Alex backed her up. It was the tastiest ration pack. Alexis even secretly raided the base's stockpile to neat pick the most decent ones —there goes her efforts.

Farah tossed the unopened pack to Hadir, who caught it with ease and wiggled it higher when Alexis tried to reach for it. "You cannot win this war with... _that_." Hadir inspected it, face twisted with distasteful when he opened it, revealing an unappealing mash of rice compressed into a box.

Farah tugged on her wrist, already pulling her down the stairs. "If you don't throw it away, I _will_ tell Captain Price about your horrible English accent.

Alexis groaned, "If this war wouldn't kill me, Price would."

"Better yet, he'll make you run the miles for real."

Her lips parted with a gasp, pointing accusingly as Farah continued to drag her down the stairs. "So you admit it was you!"

"Come." Hadir pulled away the agent who tried to jump Alex with a punch.

"We will show you the real gourmet."


	6. Distant Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally a glimpse of the day Farah, Hadir and Alexis met, told from both perspective. Some fluff between Alexis and Alex. Slight confession (blink and you miss it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty dark chapter – please be careful. Mentions of wounds, burns and blood. Implied mentions of sexual assault.

_27 October 2019, 0600_  
 _"Alexis" & "Alex" _| _Codename Aces_  
CIA agents with Urzik militia  
 ** _Liberation Force Base, Urzikstan._**

Truth be told, Urzikstan was starting to grow on the CIA agent. Used to working in much less hostile environments than this, Alexis figured it would take time before she could adapt. But between the constantly rowdy, yet lively compound and the unpolluted Urzikstan night sky that smiled down at her—it wasn't difficult for Urzikstan to imprint on her.

It was 6 on the clock when she awoke, a wired response. Judging from the unslept sleeping bag, Alex was still on lookout duty. Five minutes later, he entered the room.

"Wow, cute bed hair."

"Morning to you too." Alexis ignored his sarcasm, starting to roll her sleeping bag but halted at Alex's request—questionably saying hers was more comfortable. "They're the exact same," She deadpanned.

"Fine, I like your smell. Consider me obsessed." Alex lazily pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his towel. Her laughter was airy among the morning stillness.

"Dial the creepiness to a min, 'kay?"

They walked to the makeshift showers that Farah had shown them—grimy and borderline filthy but they couldn't be bothered, instead, grateful that showers were even a possibility. Alex stepped one foot in when Alexis opened her bathroom door, "Quick proposition, wanna save some water?"

Alex dramatically clasped a hand on his chest at her vexed jab.

"What? It's our part to save the Earth, isn't it?" His voice lowered to a whisper, as if he was sharing the best-kept secret. Their foreheads were practically touching, his breath fanning on her cheeks. Their height difference made Alex peer down at her, thumb boldly rubbing across her cheekbones. "I'm just offering, I take my responsibility _very_ seriously."

"Mm. I bet. Just get your ass in the shower." Back against the bathroom door, Alexis chuckled at how ridiculous he was, but it was a normalcy she got used to. Even at 6 in the dead morning, there was already a irrepressible smirk on display. The warmth that radiated off his bare torso did nothing but intensified her need for a freezing shower. He didn't even budge under her shove.

" _Ooh_. Grumpypants."

Rolling her eyes, she briefly glanced at the muscular arms that encaged her, silently tracing the intricacy of his tattoo sleeves, "Can I leave now?"

"Sure, excuse me then." He gripped onto her hips as though squeezing through a narrowed pathway—except it wasn't, there were plenty of room. All he had to do was release her.

It was pointless to try and ignore the heat of his touch, her thin cotton t-shirt could only do so much.

Alex stepped away, chuckling knowingly. She almost felt _cold_. A flustered Alexis stood rooted for a few seconds before rapidly blinking, breaking the... _whatever_ this was. "I hope the water doesn't run out when you have shampoo in your eyes!" She shook the feeling out of her system, harshly biting her lip to reprimand herself.

 _'Jesus. Drag your mind out of the gutter, will you?'_ Although the devil on her shoulder tempted her with an exhilarating idea. Alexis swung the door shut with a bang, hopefully, loud enough to scare those thoughts away.

She heard his muffled yells from outside. "Point taken, you're a devious thing, aren't you!"

After a much needed shower, she found her partner back in their room. His hands tucked behind his head, droopy eyelids signified his sleepiness but held open with resistance. She entertained his cheeky statements while drying her hair.

"You look great."

"Tuck me in?" His persistence eventually honeyed her. This half-asleep state was endearing, albeit laughable and unbelievable to anybody else.

"Night." She squatted down to face the now tucked-in Alex. He answered back, words blurred from exhaustion, clearly delirious since he audaciously asked for a goodnight kiss, but was met a splash of cold water. "Well, it's officially morning, but... semantics. Answer is _no_." Refusing to witness her smug face, within two minutes, the said man passed out.

An amused curve played on her lips, observing her friend. Once he was truly asleep, judging from his unfurrowed eyebrows and slightly parted lips, she kneeled to land a soft kiss on the crown of his head. Her movements trembled ever so slightly as her lips brushed against his forehead, diligent to not rouse the light-sleeper.

Otherwise, she'd never hear the end of it.

Alex had slipped into unconscious blissfulness by now, leaving her alone with her raging thoughts. Looking at him, she thought of a few words that she would never utter out loud, even if her life had been beaten to shy of an inch. She was no idiot, nor a teenage girl struggling to analyse her feelings.

Alexis had feelings for Alex, she resigned to it ever since her return from St. Petersburg. Staring death in the face can do that to somebody.

It was a fool's errand to think it would ever work out. A bigger mistake if she destroyed the _most_ important person in her universe. It didn't help that they were in the middle of a war, and they always were.

Besides, _love was overrated_. But try telling that to her defying heart for not letting it go even after five unreciprocated years. Alexis quietly untied the curtains covering their partition of the compound, leaving more than one thing to rest.

It was a nightmare to work out in jeans, but to respect their culture, she obviously had no complaints. Alexis convened with Farah, Hadir and another group of militia fighters for their first training today. Today's lesson resolved around stealth—her speciality. She taught them everything to know about sneak attacks, efficient knifing and using unconventional weapons like a belt or a pen.

They were an easy bunch to teach, like a sponge readily soaking up whatever she had to give. Somehow standing here reminded her when she was an insignificant recruit back in Fort Benning, how time flew. "Being stealthy is more than sneaking around and keeping quiet. It conserves ammo and your energy. Tradecraft 101: if you can't identify the target, _you are the target."_

They wrapped around 9.15am, concluding the lesson by teaching them her neat trick, emptying her shoes to reveal razors pasted against her ankle. "Hide these in your socks. It will get you out, trust me." She drawled out the last part, unintentionally grinning at a funny memory.

Farah smiled, asking her fighters to head to breakfast. Hadir, with his stomach growling embarrassingly loud throughout the training, eagerly led the beeline to the kitchen. The commander spoke gratitude to her informative lesson again, before a small tap on Alexis' shoulders pulled her attention away. It belonged to a young woman, not older than 15, she guessed.

"I... want to learn more... Can you teach me?"

"Your English is flawless..." Alexis waited for her name, the young woman was fidgety, only met her gaze meekly upon asking.

"Alia."

"Beautiful name." A smile fell on both the commander and the agent's lips. "Well, nice to meet you, Alia. Maybe we can meet back here after breakfast?"

The young woman nodded eagerly, shoulders now loosened. There was a slight skip in her steps when she walked in the kitchen's direction, joining the rest.

The corpse of the young child she witnessed the yesterday unwillingly flashed before her eyes. If she shut her eyes, she'd bet she could still smell the unholy putrid decay of human flesh.

"Alen– _Alexis_?" The sound of her name dragged her out of her thoughts, the excitable yells and rowdy chatter from the kitchen now of tangible existence. Farah waited for her expectingly, "Lost you for a minute."

They walked away to the rooftops. "Oh. Sorry, just... I didn't see her when I was here the last time... She's so young."

"War waits for no one," Farah replied truthfully. "We found Alia in a sewage tunnel three years ago, she was the only one left in her family. We found her before the soldiers did..."

She didn't explain further; for they both knew the tragic outcome of a young girl living alone in this occupation. Farah continued on a solemn note, "Barkov does not inflict pain only from his bombs and massacre. He tears families apart, ruin our children's innocence. Barkov and his army do... _unspeakable_ things..."

Farah didn't explicitly stated it, but there was a shared understanding. It was terrifying to be a woman in Urzikstan. Or really, be a woman anywhere near this life...

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you the last time."

Fazed by the unexpected mention of old events, Farah replied a few seconds later. "It's okay. You came back."

"Still, five years is a long time when freedom is on the line."

"Alexis," Their gaze connected meaningfully, "I have waited _all_ my life. Five years is nothing. Plus. you came with backup. You brought me victory."

The agent's nose scrunched in grimace, "Don't jinx it." The commander looked perplexed at her words, "It's bad luck to say you've already won before you actually did."

"You believe in luck?"

"I didn't, but after you saved me... Let's just say I'm a believer." Although there was nothing cheery in her tone. "Luck can go a long way, I'm living proof." The distant look in her eyes and made Farah caution around her next words.

Farah remembered the day she stumbled upon Alexis. Stumbled would be the right word, seeing she _literally_ walked in a chamber with Alexis in it.

 _Same shit, different day. Only today Farah and her fighters received intel of a new mob that moved operations just outside the borders of Urzikstan. As if Barkov wasn't enough, they were terrorising and robbing_ _farmers_ _of their already piss-poor life._

_They utilised the element of surprise, showing up in the dead middle of the night. Also dousing the enemy's compound in petrol was an easy and foolproof way to get the job done._

_"Sister!" When Hadir yelled for her, she was terrified something had happened to her brother—who was still inside, drenching the house with more petrol. "There is a woman... Prisoner! She doesn't look like she's with them!"_

_"Bring her out!"_

_Hadir balanced a bloodied woman on his back, carrying her all the way back to their waiting trucks in the woods. Farah immediately demanded her male fighters to look away, covering the skimpily dressed woman with a canvas mat. Not that it mattered, really—the unknown woman's face was unrecognisable, bruises and blood littered all over her body, her natural skin colour a mystery to them._

_"She's alive! Barely breathing, but still here." One of her fighters announced. At that, they floored back to their compound. Farah was the one to clean her up, horrified by the state she was in._ _The commander had seen her fair share of gore, but even she didn't want to imagine what the mob did to the woman._ _Under the cuts, wounds and burns Farah could see a peek of the woman's skin colour_. _After dabbing some water on her face, her American features came into view._

 _There was no patch on her, no dog tags to identify her._ _Soldier? No, spy, she concluded. The woman looked far too beautiful for a wise commander to send into an active, hostile battlefield like Urzikstan._

Farah shook her head dismissively. "You give me too much credit, Alexis. _You_ were the one strong enough to live through all that."

"If it weren't for you, the mob would have killed me. _Hopefully_." The agent swung her legs freely over the rooftop's edge. Her solemness didn't bypass the commander. "I'm serious, Farah. If I wasn't so lucky to meet you, even though it was in a burning fire, I wouldn't be here..." Their sight fell upon a faintly wrinkled patch of skin that covered a part of Alexis' left shin. "You saved my life, Farah. _Thank_ _you_."

Through blurry vision, it was hard to make the commander's face, but she roughly pictured the curve on her lips. She made no efforts to hide her tears, knowing Farah had seen her worse. Recalling St. Petersburg drained every ounce of life in her, a dark stain of her past that no matter what, she couldn't scrub away.

And believe her, she had scrubbed her skin _raw_ trying to erase it. But it still lived, crawled under her skin.

After the annoying tear dropped, her vision cleared. Now facing Farah, who seemingly had the same sentimental expression on her face, the two women engulfed in a tight embrace. There was a kind of serenity residing in the knowledge that Farah still smelled the way Alexis remembered.

When Alexis, then Alena first woke, she was quick to hold a scalpel against the first person she saw. It didn't help that it was a _man_.

 _Digging relentlessly into the guy's neck, she ignored the electrifying pain all over her_ _body_ _yelling_ _at_ _her to stop._

 _"Stop! Stop!" A young female dashed into the room,_ _frantic_ _arms_ _flailing about_. _Alexis recognised the authority that radiated off this woman, so she jerked her head at the exit._

_"I cannot let you leave. Look at you, you need to recover."_

_Displeased, the scalpel pierced through the man's skin. Eyes averting in a frenzy, she tried to work the best escape plan in her jumbled mind. "I'll recover somewhere fucking else. Let me go."_

_"We are not the enemy here–"_

_"'_ _C_ _ause the bad guys_ _are so honest?" Alexis spat, using the guy as her human shield to inch towards the entrance. Her antics were gaining a ton of spectators, lining alongside the exit with firearms. "Tell your men to back off. **Now!** __Or_ _I_ _fucking_ _shoot my way through."_

 _Alexis_ _dropped unconscious after that statement, apparently, someone h_ _ad hit_ _her with a dose of anaesthetic._ _She_ _half-imagined she would be_ _restrained_ _, but surprisingly, not only was she not, but the same woman slept beside her bed defenceless too._

_Maybe it was pure stupidity, or kindness._

"Hate to interrupt, but Laswell's calling." Alex's voice boomed from the rooftop's entrance, making her jump. Back-facing him, she hastily wiped her tears and at a confirming nod from Farah, she turned around—all traces of tears disappeared from her face.

Farah watched the brunette agent retreat, a sad yet proud smile resting on her face when she thought about how far they both had come.

"Everything okay?" Alex inquired warily, shutting the door behind him for complete privacy.

"Yeah, perfect. Why?"

"Nothing. Just looked intense, that's all. And you're usually not big on hugs."

An uncharming snort escaped from her. Leaning against a table, she said, "Maybe that's just when it comes to you. Enough, where's Laswell?"

Alex was about to probe further but an unceremonious ring of the satellite phone stopped him. He huffed, having half a feeling that Laswell was a genie or something borderline supernatural, summoned at the mere mention of her name.

"You got Saint and Echo 3-1 on the line."

_"Sorry for the early call, but I got good news. The attic of the Al-Qatala townhouse was a gold mine. It looks like we found the Wolf._ _"_

"Good news indeed," Alex commented.

 _"Communications from the laptop were tracked to Ramaza Hospital in Urzikstan, where the Al-Qatala leader is believed to be holed-up. Farah's forces will track terror activity at the hospital while a Marine ground force_ _will_ _advance on the complex."_

At that, they arched a questioning brow, "Why the extra heat? We already have Farah's forces."

 _"Not my call, Saint. Colonel Norris suggested it and the General agrees. We only have one shot at this, the plan needs to be flawless."_ She almost scoffed at the same old excuse, but couldn't really blame Laswell. _"_ _You two will link up with Sergeant Griggs, the_ _main priority is to capture the Wolf. Saint, you will lead interrogation about the stolen gas. I want him alive, can I trust you?"_

Alexis shrugged casually. "Of course, death would be too easy for the bastard... Excuse my language, Watcher."

 _"_ _Agreed. But,_ _I still want him to look presentable, got it?"_

"Are we talking face? Or waist down?"

_"Saint..."_

The female agent received a defeated laughter from her partner, mouthing at her to stop it. Suddenly the minuscule guilt in him for executing Alexis' punishment for "insolence" disappeared. She had a true gift for pushing the limit, and then some. Consider it her cheap thrill—testing how far she could resist the CIA's chain of command. Alex sometimes wondered if Alexis was actively trying to court her death.

It was humorous watching her try though, knowing she was too precious of an asset to the CIA and JSOC to really punish. She'd only get a light slap on the wrist for trying—only irritating her further.

"Just kidding, Watcher. You can count on me."

* * *

_28 October 2019, 0530_   
**_Rammazan, Urzikstan._ **

Soldiers or agents, everyone had their pre-mission rituals. The familiarity of routines helped to comfort soldiers who fear they might not return from their voyages.

Every day might be their last.

For Task Force Black, it was a last-minute poker game until somebody won three streaks in a row—freeing themselves from carrying claymores for that mission. Usually, Commander Maddox would win, but observing their games for a prolonged period of time, something told Alexis her commander was playing cheat.

Their games, albeit entertaining, was not her thing. She liked her silence, enjoy the isolation before entering another war—she'd never know how long a mission was. Days, weeks, _months_.

Her incident changed her, after _that_ , she could never really be alone anymore—feeling the urge to always be surrounded by people. So there she was, sitting on yet another rooftop that oversaw the hospital the Wolf was in, even though it wasn't her shift.

A waft of smoke filled her nostrils unpleasantly, immediately catching her attention. "I can _feel_ you looking," Farah said from her right.

Busted.

"6 minutes." The agent subconsciously mumbled, earning a confused look from the commander.

"She means you're killing 6 minutes off your life." Alex continued after Farah's narrowed eyes, "She used to annoy me with this every time I pick up a stick. Mildly efficient. If you have iron willpower like me...Alexis can be _very_ persuasive." He winced at the reminder of her 'detox' sessions, truly terrifying.

Alexis rolled her eyes.

Their conversation ceased when Farah's walkie-talkie announced Al-Qatala was firing in the hospital. "My soldiers confirm that the hospital is under siege. Al-Qatala is taking civilians as human shields. They're protecting someone."

"Or something."

Farah shrugged, "The more we find out... Hadir is my best sniper. You can rely on him and all my fighters."

"Well... This one is my best sniper. You can rely on her as long as she's well-fed— Ow! See my point?"

"Keep talking... I'll leave you to die."

Taking the opportunity when Hadir and Alexis engaged in small talk, seemingly part of their ruse, Farah successfully sneaked Alex her cigarette. He managed to pass it back before his partner swivelled back.

"Marines want their pound of flesh. They're leading the charge on this."

"I told you we would help you."

"And you're keeping your word."

"I don't do this to keep my word." Farah hesitated, "The invaders of my country have no regard for human life. The gas kills all things. Even food in our gardens. If you use these tactics, you are my enemy."

"No exceptions?"

"None. Al-Qatala has given my people a bad name, and we have paid dearly for their crimes. I want to see the Wolf punished."

The two CIA agents nodded coherently, "We'll make sure you're at the embassy for the handoff to Price."

"And you? Where will you two go when this is over?"

"Wherever they send me," Alex stared into the distance, casually nudging Alexis, "Hopefully this time to somewhere with a view."

Alexis chuckled, rolling up the hems of her jeans, "Urzikstan isn't so bad... you know. _After_ we kill Barkov."

At their sighs, the commander finally understood. "You don't choose?"

"Ha. Not exactly." There was a price to pay to be _the best_ out of the best, spoiler alert, it sucked.

They spilt, each taking different corners to defend until sunrise. Knowing his best friend couldn't be alone, Alex's fingers thoughtlessly slipped between hers and pulled her along.

Hadir called for the female agent, "Want to spot for me?"

Alex's grip tightened significantly. Her blood spiked from being put on the spot. "Um. I don't know... Hadir said he kept my fried rice—" Alex grumbled an insincere apology on her behalf before dragging her away. He hoped she couldn't hear the way his teeth grounded in irritation.

They settled on an isolated corner, away from eager ears. "Okay, I _really_ wanted to eat that–"

"I'm a better eating partner. A better partner, overall, not that I'm trying to compete." He boasted with a wink, "But if I have to, I'll definitely win."

"Ah, the lovely smell of testosterone. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're tiptoeing on jealousy," Alexis mumbled sardonically, the scope on her sniper rifle clicking rhythmically.

"I'm not jealous."

At the realisation, a wry smile appeared on her lips, taking a break to harshly shove Alex's left shoulder. "My goodness, you _are_ jealous! Don't worry, Hadir won't sweep me off my feet, pretty sure he has bigger things to worry about..." Alexis cleared her throat sarcastically, "Like a war?"

"You know me, I hate sharing. Especially my best friend." He shrugged dismissively after flicking her nose, only to be met with a pair of mocking eyes. "Can't you pretend to love me, just once? _Come_ _on_ , Lexi, say it. I'll cover your eyes." He whispered, the best friend part doused her with a bucket of cold water. Undeniably her heart lurched, though it was a simple joke, her stubborn heart had a mind of its own.

The rifle laid in her hands, forgotten. Under the rising sun, her voice was reduced to a whisper. Alexis swallowed a thick gulp, deciding to wave the white flag so she could calm her fiercely pounding heart. 

"I don't have to pretend, Alex. You _are_ my best friend. There's nobody else I can physically stand being in a room longer for five minutes."

For a cynical person like Alexis, this was basically a confession.

Alex arched a brow, still waiting.

"Fine. Love you."

Just as the Urzikstan sun finally pierced through the clouds, shining streaks of blood orange on their faces, it charmed a spell in Alex. The man couldn't help but be enamoured at this gorgeous sight.

"Yeah." He replied mindlessly, chewing down his lips while watching Alexis close an eye in concentration through her scope.

"Love you too."


	7. Bloody Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get the Wolf. Alexis conducts interrogations like the badass she is, but sometimes it sucked being that good at her job. (Protective couple... you don’t even have to squint.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: misogynistic POS, emotional detachment, blood and violence, mild graphic detail of torture. (sorry for the late update... I edited this chapter 17 times lol.. and that's on insecurity.)

_28 October 2019, 0630_   
_"Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces_   
_CIA with Demon Dogs_   
**_Rammazan, Urzikstan_ **

"Place is a freaking morgue."

Judging by the piles of stacked bodies on the medical beds, it was a justified statement. Morgue might be an idoneous word for hospital. The patronising smell of death bypassed her as usual, but not the disturbing scene of unnaturally still bodies.

The handiwork of Roman Barkov.

There was a twisted satisfaction when Alexis shoved another magazine in her M4A1, knowing one of these bullets had Barkov's name mentally carved into it. She couldn't wait to see it lodged between his eyes.

"Check the bodies..." Sergeant Griggs ordered. The Marines and both CIA agents warily slithered along the occupied stretchers and medical beds—hoping none of them was sleeping with a gun.

It was a gut-wrenching sight. Bloodshed and raw injuries everywhere they turned. Not even sure if those alive should be considered lucky.

Suddenly, one of the civilians bolted into a sitting position, making everybody on edge. Frantic shouts and language barrier only escalated the chaos. Not willing to see another dead body, Alexis interjected in mediocre Arabic, calmly demanding the man to lay back down.

"More than a pretty face..." She looked distastefully over her shoulder, the Marine didn't bother wiping the smirk off his face and instead, shamelessly winked. Revolting, but she merely rolled her eyes, though a much younger her wouldn't hesitate to deck his face.

Gender discrimination in the military was a _blast_. There came a time when a heavy chip weighed down her shoulders—excruciating, yet she thrived under it. Often, some misogynistic meathead would challenge her.

_Emotional, weaker, probably a lousy spotter, wouldn't last a week in the jungle._

Eventually, they all ate their words.

Alexis broke through every damn glass ceilings she went: the only female recruit in her company, made Lieutenant, then transferred to JSOC's Task Force Black. _Impossible_ was understating things.

Her unconventional transfer to Task Force Black was a statement in itself. It finally _felt_ like she earned it. Though she loved 88, the CIA was a nice change of scenery, where there were lesser suffocating males with inferiority complex and women were _actually_ appreciated.

Five years later, such remarks were a humourless punchline to her. On the contrary, Alex fantasied how good Demon 1-2 would look with a bruise on his face. In the shape of his rifle stock.

Truthfully, even she considered shoving a middle finger. The weather was hot enough to vaporise her and having a tactical vest strapped against her sweaty body, was _not_ it.

Things changed when another civilian to their 3 o'clock pulled out a gun targeted at the uniforms. While everyone was still busy hollering around, she shot a precise bullet between the hostile's eyes.

With a thud, the man fell off the stretcher.

The female agent scoffed, returning a satirical wink of her own, "Stay frosty, 1-2." He tripped around his words in shock, until Sergeant Griggs forced the gratitude out of him.

Well. If the Universe wanted to send it her way, who was she to reject it, right? She shook her head at the inevitable smirk on Alex, a subtle one hanging on her lips too.

It was a shame that the peace was ephemeral, by this time, several of Sergeant Griggs' men went radio silent. She religiously trailed behind Alex. They pushed further into the hospital, only to be met with a minigun.

 _"Mini my ass,"_ Alexis laughed nervously as bullets sprayed inches away from tearing her abdominal—because of her ballsy move to switch covers.

"Holy fucking... Okay! _Don't_ give me that look, Alex!"

She thanked the Heavens that Alex's yells were muffled over ricocheting bullets. Several smoke grenades later, Alex sniped the gunman and _lo and behold,_ they finally reached a heavily chained door.

Score, imagery confirmed the Wolf was inside. 

It was her job to clear the room while Alex secured the Wolf. Her index finger pressed lightly against the trigger, swallowing the adrenaline that dangerously swirled inside her. Upon Alex's signal, they sneaked in and hid behind messy shelves. The visual of the three missing Marines came into view, with one held hostage with a knife against his throat as the Wolf filmed another propaganda video.

"Check... Five hostiles."

"Affirmative. On my mark," Alex replied. A split second later, he tackled the Wolf from behind. His men's reactions were quick, but her years of muscle discipline was borderline supernatural.

"Clear!" Griggs rushed to untie his men. "You two good?"

Alexis nodded, tightening the zip ties uncomfortably around the Wolf's wrist. She began examining his body language, hopefully finding nibs of his tells to use against him in interrogation later.

Omar Sulaman was strangely calm for a man with a foiled plan. There was slight reluctance in his steps, but still, silence.

"Saint to Watcher, Wolf is in the bag."

Her voice was a stark contrast to the boyish tones that surrounded the room—earning the Wolf's attention, who made the bold decision to turn around abruptly.

"What are you doing here, daughter?"

Alexis felt the entire world's gaze burn into her side profile, equally as confused as the lot. She shrugged and walked away.

Inwardly, the interrogator inside was thrilled. The Wolf was in for a helluva surprise.

* * *

_28 October 2019, 2100_   
**_Sakhra, Urzikstan_ **

The air-conditioned room in the embassy was a _godsend_ , not a word of complaint as the cold air blanketed her. Alexis, Alex, Farah and Hadir patiently waited for Price's arrival.

When Alexis expectingly popped a piece of mint gum, Alex _knew_. Though it didn't take an expert to discern the ominous aura around her. Alexis hadn't said more than what was necessary in the seven hours since they captured the Wolf, busying herself to study the Wolf.

Alex was smarter than to cut in between. Like Alexis said, she was damn good at her job. Interrogation was one of her most valued expertise, perhaps arguably why the CIA wanted her so badly and the reason why JSOC refused to let her go.

There was a secret to her tactics—compartmentalise. Alexis sat opposite the Wolf, gaze cold as ice. It was a chilling sight even for Alex.

Unscrewing his bottle, Alex greedily rehydrated himself, still observing Alexis. The grittier bite in her tactics was certainly noticeable. He guessed it had _something_ to do with her incident. Having been captured once or twice, that was the closest Alex came to ever understanding her.

Sometimes Alex swore he never got her back.

Physical detachment was a given while she was... compartmentalising, although the rising situation gave him no choice. A shiver ran down his spine as he tapped her shoulders. At the slight arch of her eyebrows, "Bravo's three mikes out."

Alexis blinked slowly in comprehension, not realising Alex's first announcement shot past her. She nodded methodically, the metal chair screeched as she got up. She charged determinedly to an isolated hallway and slipped down against the wall, burying her head in her tucked knees. Despite the rapid intakes of breaths, it didn't suffice.

She _loathed_ every single second in interrogations. _Doing the Devil's work,_ she thought. The irony in this situation was her call sign. For someone called Saint, she didn't know anything else more normal than this.

Saint wasn't a moniker given to her because she was virtuous, innocent or some shit like that. Hilarious to think that, for its darker origin.

Every time she conducted an interrogation, she had to subdue the gag-inducing hypocrisy. How could she, after St. Petersburg?

The reports claimed it was a miracle she survived. _Fuck_ that, what did they know.

That birthday was memorable, to say the least. _He_ had even arranged something special that faithful day—nothing said _happy birthday!_ more than electrocution.

152 days.

 _"_ ты прекрасна, ангел... _(You are beautiful, angel..)"_

"Fuck!" Her eyes shot open, desperate to let the ugly fluorescent light blind the image. Autonomously, her fingers scratched wildly across her arms. After a particularly deep breath, her head fell against the wall and like clockwork, she exhaled all her anxiety.

She was too good at pretending.

It was her desire to stay in solitude longer, but the shrilling embassy siren obviously had other plans. Doubling back, she found Alex at the doorway already looking for her.

"The Butcher and his men are about to breach. We need to leave, now." She peered into the room, barely seeing the tinted glow of the fire outside. Noticing the rising blood clots and angry red streaks on her forearms, Alex clenched his fists to restrain himself from reaching out, knowing she would only flinch. So, he settled for a hard swallow of his saliva, "Follow me."

Price's voice rang in their ears, _"Saint and Echo 3-1, primary extraction failed. We're down on the roof."_

"Understood. What's the call, Captain?"

_"There's a saferoom in the basement. Head there. We'll be right behind you."_

When they reached the basement, Alexis basically scrambled to the CCTVs for a sitrep–she had half a thought to join the sweep, eager to rid the hypocrisy from her systems. Eternity later, or in reality, twenty minutes later, their backup arrived.

 _Price_.

The SAS Captain squeezed her upper arm in greeting. Lucky for her, it was where the bullet had previously scraped her. Price clapped Alex's back while glancing at her patched-up injury, "That fast, huh?"

 _Missed you too, old man,_ she thought, rolling her eyes as a response. Her coldness confused the Captain, eyes darting to Alex for an answer. He understood when Alex cocked his head at the Wolf.

"Let's move. Clock's ticking."

"You heard her..." Price ordered the Sergeant to direct the Ambassador secretary to safety and the rest headed to the parking lot. While Price and Farah went to retrieve the Ambassador's secretary, the two CIA agents stood guard at the car park entrance.

Under the flashing red coat of the emergency lights, there was no mistaking in the comfort Alex's concerned nod brought her.

It was apparent that Alex was her anchor. But in this state, she couldn't bear to look at him for long, internally disgusted by herself. All these years, she was petrified to ask if he was repulsed by her hypocrisy.

Then, she felt the hesitant touch of a coarse, large hand. She accepted it immediately—much to Alex's surprise. Their fingers intertwined secretly in the dimly lit hallway. Her eyes had long adapted to the darkness, able to witness Alex looking down at her and just like that, a sense of serenity flowed through her.

The unreadable expression on his face was a stranger to her in all their time together. Under the magnetic allure of Alex's gaze and the soothe whirring of his touch, it felt like they were worlds away from a war zone. Until gunshots unforgivingly interrupted.

She immediately retracted her hand.

Afterwards, the group slotted the obtained garage keycard. They fought through waves of Al-Qatala soldiers in low light, courtesy of the lacking streetlights. 

The Ambassador's residence was no sanctuary either, as another wave of AQ fighters drew closer. Afraid the rising situation might delay their timeline, Price ordered her to start interrogations immediately. Her heart jumped at the unexpected news, suddenly thrown in the ring.

Hadir and Farah sent nods of encouragement before running out the residence. Price, despite _raging_ at Laswell through the comms, mustered one last small smile for her.

That left Alex, who looked equally worried as her. Wordlessly, he tapped at the base of his neck. She understood instantly, feeling the cool metal of his dog tag against her skin. Obviously they had airtight obligations to not carry personal items, zero accountability and all, but it was _Alex_. She had corrupted him enough to not give a fuck.

The dog tag was nothing informative, only a simple 'X' carved messily from Alex's kitchen knife. Useless to her enemy, but deadly if it was ever pried from her neck.

It was a matching set. She mysteriously woke up with it after _that night_ with Alex. His way of saying they'd always have a piece of each other.

With one last longing look, that unbeknownst to both of them—burned their insides, Alex left her alone with the Wolf.

* * *

Her immediate observation? The Wolf was _talkative_.

It didn't faze her—narcissists simply could not shut up. Past thirty minutes, zero words retaliated and the Wolf was _still_ going on.

 _Please._ She wanted to yawn. Her legs swung restlessly while she sat on a table, undermining whatever authority the Wolf thought he had. The folklores he told in his grandiose sense of self-importance was vexing but valuable.

He hated women in combat. She learnt that when he tried to recruit Farah and even her, just minutes ago. _Omar Sulaman thought women were weak._

Exciting.

As he rambled on, she almost failed to suppress a scoff. A woman wielding more power was his stressor, this meathead would be even easier to break.

"You have killer eyes," The Wolf said, tone switched from persuasive to intimidating. He exhausted everything—telling stories of what Barkov's men did to "weak" women, trying to scare her into his protection. Alexis hadn't bothered reacting, which pissed him off.

Victory surged past the fog of irritation inside her. She had conditioned the Wolf by staying quiet, truly a personal achievement. His narcissistic tendencies were itching to get out, evident from how he was desperately reaching for straws. 

Alexis reached for her stripped vest and carelessly dug around for a plastic bottle. Popping the lid open, she chucked a mint gum in preparation.

It was time. Clouded by anger, he'd make mistakes that she would catch.

"Somebody hurt you."

She couldn't resist a huff at his eleventh-hour tactics. So the Wolf was now gunning for her emotional side? Fine, she'd bite.

"Don't act like you know me."

"Oh, child... I know more than you think. The look in your eyes, fear..." The Wolf paused, smirking arrogantly even at her mocking smile. "You put a great act, daughter. But I've been around longer than you... seen more."

"I bet... Because what makes a freedom fighter wake up and decide to switch sides?" Alexis circled him in pretence thought, "Money?" Noticing his jaw clenched, she pressed on it. "Power? That's why you made those videos?"

Alexis interrupted at the sounds of his protest, "Surely freedom fighters must not pay well. Maybe you got sick of that and switched?"

"I didn't switch sides! I was always on the right side."

"And what side is that?"

"The winning side," He snapped, "This occupation will never end if we hold sympathy for others."

A narcissist with a saviour complex, laughable. Alexis returned to stand in front of him, the grin ever present on her face. "But you didn't deny my claims—you _want_ money and power."

The Wolf wanted to charge at her but was tied by the restraints, heavy creases in his forehead as he snarled, " _No_! I am saving Urzikstan!"

"Murdering people is saving them? I know people _just_ like you, hiding behind a cause. After you kill Barkov, you will only start yourownregime." Alexis chuckled darkly, "I'm not gonna let you do that. Don't bother holding out, nobody's coming to save you."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" At her strained expression, he continued, "If I die today, I die a hero. You? Your death will be meaningless, a secret." He continued laughing, "You Westerners... Busybodies, you have no business here. The price for that is death–"

He paused, not because of her killer gaze, but as if something in him _clicked_ , "You have no family... That's why you are here." Loud waves of laughter escaped from the man, like he figured it out. And _fuck_ , he did, word for word.

Alexis must have reached Nirvana or _gained enlightenment_ , shocked by her restrain to not blow Omar Sulaman's brains out. She dare not move a muscle, refused to prove him right.

"When my men come, and they will. I will spare you, kill everybody but you. Maybe even make you watch that young man who loves you so much. Then, you shall know fear, _child_..."

That was it, her trigger point. Blood red. Hot flashes of anger. Picturing Alex's dead body was enough to chuck everything up. The wrathful voice inside her absolutely shattered her restrain, no longer concerned with not letting the Wolf gain an edge.

Alexis bit.

In a flash, she tipped his chair behind and roughly circled a hand around his neck.

" _Don't_. You think you know fear? You don't know _shit_ until you carve your name on a disgusting brick wall with your bloody fingernails because it was the only way anyone would know what happened to you." Alexis spat, eyes boring at the choking man rendered helpless under her. "So don't fucking talk to me about fear, _old man_."

When the Wolf thrashed around to breathe, she waited another three seconds before releasing him—the once tipped chair landing wobbly with a sharp shriek. Her sudden outburst gained a new terror visible in the Wolf's eyes. No longer the delicate soldier his sanctimonious mind painted her as.

"Now," She slapped the invisible dust off her hands, tone bouncing scarily fast to normal. "Where is the gas?"

"I... I don't know."

Sighing, she wiped the sweat off her forehead and asked again. Still receiving the same reply, "And I don't believe you. Nothing escapes the Wolf. Someone stole the gas and you knew about it..." Alexis abruptly paused, fingers tapped against her forehead, "No, wait. _You made a deal._ Help whoever steal the gas and they promise to help you chase the foreign powers out?"

His silence was abundant.

There wasn't a tinge of remorse when her fingertips glided along a screwdriver.

"Since you have been here for _much_ longer... You know this next part." As soon as she wiggled the screwdriver between her fingers, Alexis had him in the bag. The slight twitch under the Wolf's right eye was his tell, fear. Alexis witnessed it when she choked the living hell out of him.

Too damn easy. She should dress a big fat red ribbon across him right now.

"And since you know me so well," She gestured between them, "You _definitely_ know that I'm a big believer in second chances. Right your wrongs, blah blah. I'll give you second chances. Many more, actually, I'm pretty generous... But I'm not sure if you can take it." With that, she ruthlessly stabbed into his left thigh, a devious smile spreading wider with the increased intensity of his screams. The metal tip squelched when she dug around.

"The gas?"

"I... _Stop_!" The Wolf bellowed in pain when she yanked it out, sprays of blood following. For someone called the Wolf, he had an embarrassing low pain tolerance.

She tilted his chin up, pleased as she surveyed the sweat that broke. "Here's your second chance. Third is when I snap your femoral artery and hang you for all of Urzikstan to see you bleed out. Your legacy will be a joke."

"Y–You can't do that..." He shook his head weakly, eyes blinking in pain. "Everyone will know the Americans are here... You'll be buried with me."

Reducing to eye level, she smiled wholeheartedly, "I'll make sure to dig a grave big enough for us both. Last call... Your third chance is coming," Alexis taunted, nodding towards the electrical screwdriver—witnessing the fear shudder across his body. "Where is the gas?"

She came so close to breaking him, practically _seeing_ the words trying to tumble out of his mouth. Literally a blink later, a truck wildly crashed into their room, crumbling the house's weak foundations. Jerking to a standing position, she instantly reached for her sidearm and fired.

At least five men exited the truck, spraying bullets that forced her to tuck her body behind the slim profile of a cupboard.

They had AKs and she had a handgun, do the math.

She hurriedly pressed her comms, "I lost visual on the Wolf!"

Her instincts wrangled between fight or flight, seeing that she was severely outnumbered and the door was literally on her left. But the morality in her warred on. Suppressed under heavy fire, she still had no visual of the Wolf, but assumed he was freed by now. 

She yelped in surprise as a painful tug tossed her out into the open. A burly man wasted no time to attack her. She barely raised her Glock 21 before he swiftly grabbed her wrist and pressed the magazine release button. 

He wanted to reach for her Glock's slide lock before she elbowed his jaw, making him stumble backwards but made a quick recovery. He threw her into the metal table and she lost the grip on her gun.

Alexis' back arched painfully across the table, hands scrambling for purchase to rid the tightening hands around her neck. She weakly tried to pry in between his arms, but her lungs burned from the depleting oxygen. Fingers scrambling to poke his eyes and finally mustering enough strength, she sent a cheap blow to his nuts. He hunched over just enough for her to inhale loudly.

Seeing that, the Wolf's man started firing again.

She kneed him in the gut, put him in a chokehold and propped him up as her shield. The man's body jerked in reaction to every bullet he received.

Her ears picked up on the distinct sound of M4A1s approaching closer to her location. The Wolf motioned to leave, dust spluttering her way as their truck wildly reversed, with the Wolf grinning victoriously in the passenger seat.

"We will meet again, daughter! And your lovely man."

_He left her alive. Like he said he would._

Miraculously still breathing, the man in her grasps used this distraction to tug on her legs. Seconds later, she felt a splitting pain in her head.

She was on the ground when she reopened her eyes, hazily feeling a wet sensation drip down her temples. The pain mirrored a wave, boggling inside her. Black spots started to consume the edges of her sight.

_No no no._

From her blurry vision, she managed to squint out something glimmering in her 12 o'clock—she assumed a knife or her god damn screwdriver coming back to bite her ass.

_Not like this._

The shuffles of dragged footsteps echoed in her brain, almost a warning from her body. She blindly saw the shift in light source, presuming he was walking towards her.

Incoherent words tumbled out, forcing herself to speak so she wouldn't pass out. Shaking, she pushed her upper body off the floor and stretched for her fallen sidearm...

That one bullet in the Glock's chambers was still waiting.

More blood flowed messily down her head, further impairing what was left of her vision.

Muscle memory dictated the rest—the grainy grip of her Glock, index finger looped around the trigger.

Alexis prayed when she fired.

At the assuring sound of a body collapsing, so did Alexis.

* * *

Price was the one to spot her.

"Clear!" He burst open the door, finding a jarring hole in the walls and an unconscious Alexis laying beside a dead man.

"Shit," Kyle said from beside him. "Is she breathing?"

Price shouted for Alex and the man instantly appeared beside him. Careful not to move her unnecessarily, two shaky fingers checked Alexis' pulse, Price felt his heart threatened to burst out.

"She's alive."

No one heaved louder than Alex. They examined her injuries, a large gash splashed across her right temple that hopefully a few stitches would solve. But her unconsciousness was troubling.

"How long has it been?"

"More than a minute..."

"Fuck, we need to do something!" Alex yelled frantically. _Please, please, please_ _wake up_ _._ Her chances of a brain injury increased by the seconds. _Fuck!_ He should have stayed with her, why didn't he stay?

His hands gently cupped the sides of her face, feeling an onslaught of tears starting to form amidst the rising stuffiness in his nose. As his light-blue jeans was tinted a carmine red, he decided this was his fault.

Alex jerked at the mention of his name.

"Let me clean her injuries..." Farah coaxed, a cloth that reeked of disinfectant in her hands. Alex reluctantly shifted, kneeling beside her laying body and watched Farah dab carefully, venomously demanding her to exact more care.

"Alex," A powerful grip tugged on his vest, lifting him to his feet to meet John Price. "Ease off. Let Farah and Hadir do the work."

"Captain..."

"She will be fine, trust me." Price chuckled to himself, " _Unbelievable_. That woman is still an excellent shot." He whistled lowly, staring at the man with a fatal shot to his heart.

Price said with a knowing look, "Clear your head, son."

"Yes sir," Alex exhaled, going to retrieve her fallen comms set on the floor.

Seconds later, Farah yelled for them. The two men doubled back, finding Farah holding Alexis down from wiggling about. Alex heard a groggy mumble of his name.

"Alex..." Alexis repeated, head rolling around despite the yells of protest. "Where..."

"Here! Here! I'm right here. You need to stop moving, baby." Alex skidded to her side and held her outreached hands. His eyes raking over her as if he had the superpower to mentally check her wellbeing.

A weak grin formed at the realisation that he was alive, breathing and right before her. "The Wolf... He... The escaped... He... car... _men_ _._ "

"Shhh, we'll get him," Hadir tried to pacify her while handing Farah a clean cloth. 

Ten minutes passed before she started making sense and was fully conscious. Though the pounding in her head was enough to last a lifetime. Her eyes averted to the dead man.

 _Jesus_ _, the pain..._

"Alexis." Price sternly warned.

"Get me up... I'm fine... Don't be a pussy."

Carefully positioning her to sit up, she weakly laid against Alex's chest. The man could care less when her blood seeped into his shirt—evident as he steadied her head against his own, refusing to let her move it wildly.

Staring at her bewildered teammates, she hazily slurred: "Well. Don't all of you look like shit."


	8. Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermaths of the Wolf’s escape & two painfully, oblivious pining idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mention of stitches, old scars. (3370 words)

_28 October 2019, 2330_   
_"Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces_   
_CIA with SAS and Urzik militia_   
**_Sakhra, Urzikstan_ **

"Stop moving," Alia grumbled exasperatedly for the fifth time. Her nimble fingers were supposed to make stitching up Alexis' gnarly forehead gash easy— _if_ she could stay still. Then again, nobody could sit still through that without anaesthetic.

Begging for a distraction, Alexis' teeth scraped against her pale lips and her fingernails subconsciously dup deeper into Farah's arm with every stitch.

"I don't know why you do this without painkillers," Alia mumbled absentmindedly, every movement meticulous. It went unanswered, for Alexis refused to supply the 16-year-old with more horror. A few more stitches later, the young girl leaned back and smiled.

 _Thank Heavens._ High pain tolerance, sure, but needles... Alexis was wise enough to stay far away.

Alexis' impatiently patted the medical gauze, nodding at the decent patch-up. Of course the Marines had professional medics on deck, but when Alexis awoke, she felt responsible for Alia's red-rimmed eyes and loud sniffles. So, pain be damned.

Alia scowled, swatting her nosy hand, "No! Do you want an infection?"

"I _am_ older than you," Alexis reminded.

"Yes. More stupid too."

Bewildered, her neck craned towards Farah, jaw-slacked at the commander's blatant shrug in agreement. Overwhelmed by the thunderous support, "This is a mutiny of some sorts..."

"Uh-oh, your boyfriend is coming," the young girl loudly announced. Her accusation reeled stares from closer bystanders.

Heat found its way to Alexis' cheeks, spreading under Farah and Alia's teasing grins. Dizziness soon trickled in, forcing her to blink rapidly in an attempt to concentrate past the nasty headache. "Alex is not my boyfriend."

"Did I say it was Alex?"

Farah huffed, bumping fists with the younger. The conniving duo displayed megawatt smiles when Alex and Kyle came into hearing distances. Holding a box of ration packs, Kyle gestured for them to take their pick. That knocked their smugness off.

Alex plopped beside her, eating out of his rations. "Tell me you feel better," he more than demanded, giving her battered state a once-over. His eyes lingered on her forehead.

"Am I supposed to lie?"

A shadow flickered past his face, "Should I bench you?"

"Yes, if you wish to die in your sleep," her quick movements to snatch away his wristwatch communicator intensified the pain. "Although blunt force trauma is not as deadly as this headache."

"Crack another joke and I'll deliver you to Price," Alex threatened at her lightheartedness. Though his menace soon faltered at her radiant grin. 

"Boss is not in a good mood," Kyle chimed in.

"Mutiny..." Alexis mumbled. "Fine, no more jokes about concussions."

The group chatted about their game plan for tomorrow when a rude growling stomach sounded. It certainly didn't go unnoticed by Alex, who willingly gave up his rations. Packaged pasta had never tasted better, she mumbled gratefully, "Have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

Alex laughed, "Now I know you hit your head too hard."

"Would you be open to the idea of getting matching injuries?"

"Are you flirting with me?"

"No, it's just in season," Alexis shook her head, bemused. "Shut up and eat your veggies, you're giving me another headache."

The scorching look of triumph was clear in Farah and Alia's expressions and for the same reason, she purposefully evaded their eyes.

"I thought the CIA frowned upon dating in the circle?" Kyle asked casually.

The unexpectable question forced her to choke, coughing loud enough to render someone patting her back. Alexis flushed at his concern, aware of the stutter in his pats. Both CIA agents were _red,_ and boy, were Farah and Alia having a field day.

Alexis prayed her face was the usual controlled indifference. This wasn't the first time someone mislabelled their friendship, so why was this suddenly a big deal? "Yup. They hate it."

Kyle's lips formed an 'o' upon realisation, "Sorry, I thought you two were..."

Alex cleared his throat, "That's a popular opinion."

"Maybe everybody has a point. You did call her baby–" Alia cheekily added.

_You little..._

Alexis gently slapped a hurried palm against her mouth, muffling the jocular giggles from the young woman. It didn't stop her from cheekily winking at the group. Other than the two in cynosure, the others wore matching grins.

Perhaps they were playing matchmakers, but right now, her priority was to dig herself a hole.

From the unreadable look on Alex's face, he felt the same. When Alia tried to wrestle out of her grips, she thought the reddish hue on his face was a figment of her imagination. Yet if it wasn't, he sure didn't spare her the glory with this knowledge, as his head swiftly lowered to observe the hardwood floor panels.

Witnessing him this taciturn was a rare sight. Before she could entertain her illusions that _maybe_ her friends were onto something, Price yelled for Kyle.

The tension in the air snapped.

"Get some rest. We need energy to catch the Wolf tomorrow," Farah gave a friendly side hug, saving Alex from Alia's nagging reminders about her stitches. He replied with a salute.

And then there were two.

"She's awfully like you," Alex smiled. _Spitfire personality, dauntless and stubborn._

"Hopefully not, I'm a horrible person," she joked wearily, eyes losing in a battle against the slurry languor that washed over her. Coupled with the splitting headache, she wrangled between climbing upstairs to find a bed or staying here. The latter almost won until she was hoisted up.

"Don't bother, you're not walking," came Alex's reply and she obliged. When she reopened her eyes, Alex had already sat her down a bed to unlace her boots. She carelessly slithered her sweaty top off her skin.

They squeezed into a tightly-confined shower, sighing in bliss as warm cascades of water enveloped them, splashing the warfare away. Her arms looped contentedly around Alex's neck as he started to wash her blood-crusted hair, careful to shield her head wound.

"Hi," Alex wore a suspicious smile.

She sighed, "Here we go."

"Damn right. You have an immaculate talent for making people worried."

"Why thank you..."

Goosebumps raised as he silkened down her arms, tracing the red streaks clearly shaped from her nails. The way his dark eyes fastened on her made her heartstrings twitch nervously, "You could have died."

She laughed humourlessly. "You think too little of me."

"I'm serious, never do that again. You run into anything you can't handle..."

"I had him under control," she retorted.

"Clearly not enough."

"The bastard got to me. My fault, okay? I messed up. I don't need another reminder," she snapped, and the hands in her hair stopped. " _Shit_ , I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."   
  
"Sure you did," he nodded, not in the slightest offended. The fact that someone managed to one-up her caught his attention instead, "What did he say?"

Now Alexis suspected he could read minds. "Why did you think he said something?"

"Call it a hunch."

Alexis sighed, not fond to revisit her failure. "Alex..."

That was her warning, and he took it. "Just saying, I've never seen Price that worried."

She closed her eyes and shook her head dismissively, "He's just annoyed he'll have to answer to Maddox and Forbes. I'm a prized possession."

The cubicle echoed with their laughs.

Alex worked past the scars that littered her body, leaving trails of soap bubbles. He could pinpoint them with his eyes closed, yet with today's new additions, he had more to commit to memory. His thumb brushed over a spot on her upper right thigh, smirking at the slight shudder he induced but more so at the memory.

_Was she nervous?_

Hearing Alexis' hoarse voice confirmed his suspicions, "Remember this?"

"'course, you took a bullet for me," Alex said, still glazing over the raised bump. 

_August 2016, Brazil_ _._ _30 grand bounty over their heads._ _They_ _play_ _ed_ _a dangerous game of_ _cat and mouse with the entire city. A mercenary almost tore through his kneecaps until she knocked him out of the line of fire._

A charming smirk reappeared, "Few things say "I love you" like a bullet to a non-essential area."

She snorted, punching his chest. Cloudy mist floated around them, the water was too hot, almost scorching. Or maybe it was his warmth, she guessed. Her mind was foggy, only thinking how much endurance she had to not bask in the feeling of his coarse hands.

Then again, she was a soldier. Willpower was all she got.

 _Maybe not,_ her hormones decided. As hard as she tried to toss the raunchy thoughts, Alex made it difficult. Especially his arms... she was a real sucker for strong arms. The temperature was sweltering and with their bare bodies practically pressed together was not aiding.

"Switch," was all she said before she forcefully flipped them, leaving her under the running water—hoping it would clear her mind. Hasty fingers weaved in his wet hair, her turn to bathe him.

"Nasty scar," she picked up their conversation, "Scares people away."

"Maybe you should revaluate your definitions of a partner," Alex scoffed, "Scars are god damn sexy."

"In theory, I must be sexy as hell."

_Hm. You have no idea._

The bullet scrap on her arm healed nicely by now—still an open wound, though it no longer hurt when she raised her arms. Useful to know, as she foamed his hair. Her gaze traced the numerous tattoos across Alex's body, eventually landing on his chest.

Her favourite tattoo of his—a butterfly.

 _Butterflies are the universe's proof that second chances exist_ , this stuck with her ever since she read that somewhere in a digest.

A similar tattoo rested along the sides of her ribcage, accompanied by an eye on top of it. The idea struck her when she finally made Lieutenant. It felt symbolic, a parting gift to her old life.

She always had a sneaking suspicion Alex wanted a matching tattoo but was too afraid or embarrassed to say it. He'd chat her ears off about parallel tattoos, as if she didn't pick up on it. So it was no surprise when one day, he suddenly showed up with a butterfly stuck on his chest.

It was a sweet gesture and thus made her way more resolute to not jeopardise their friendship. Tattoos were sacred to a man like Alex, who never stood a chance against Command. He'd make sure to find something he loved in every location he went, and inked it. His way of establishing control over his job—by remembering parts of the good.

Her finger skimmed past his butterfly before grabbing the showerhead to drown his hair clean. They were two people engrossed in good memories among warfare. And it felt liberating.

That was until she noticed he was looking at the prominent area on her chest.

Burnt flesh, the size of his palms, staring back at them.

The entire atmosphere shifted. A shiver of glacial magnitude rushed from her toes and her heart sank. The scar's jaggedness made her feel even more self-conscious.

Hot poker on her skin, an iron branding from the mob. If she closed her eyes, she could envision the exact scene. Fear not, if the mental baggage wasn't enough, there was a physical one.

"You deserve the best, you know that?" She didn't know which irked her more, the sympathy in his tone, or that he placed her on a pedestal.

 _I'm damaged goods_ , the thought fed her demons. _So why do I deserve the best?_

She peered at the man in front of her, every word earnest. He'd say it a million times and yet she wouldn't believe him.

Perhaps it was the head injury or hormones, but her eyes soon welled up with tears. Within seconds, what started out as small sniffs transformed into full streaks of tears. The tears blended into the stream of falling water but it was unmistakable.

The sight broke Alex's heart. Shattered it, really.

Silently, Alex switched off the faucet and dressed her. Every step jerked new tears that stained his bareback. At her quiet sobs, he berated what an idiot he was for reminding her.

The contact of soft mattress made her flinch. With tear-stained eyes, she gaped at the man who Omar Sulaman promised to kill and it almost made her whimper pathetically.

The malice thoughts stopped whispering when warm touch on her face descended her back to reality.

_Alex._

"Yeah?" She hadn't realised she said it out loud.

"Stay with me," she implored. His head was already nodding, but it didn't satisfy her.

A hand shot out anxiously, "No, not this. You can't ever die on me." Her sudden request puzzled him. "Promise me."

"I promise," he said. "What happened, Alexan– Alexis?" Her birth name sat heavily on the tip of his tongue, almost escaping in his concern.

Over time, she'd built a reasonable resilience from Alex's relentless questionings, yet today her defenses lowered. "Back there... He said he'd kill you, he'll make me watch," she swallowed the rising bile. "And I let him go... Fuck."

Alexis felt like an utter failure. Not only did she fail to extract information about the stolen gas, but more people would suffer as a result of the Wolf's escape. 

Losing the usual silver lining from her interrogations made her dangerously close to spiral out of control. In her mind, she unjustly tortured a man. And it was vile—even if that man was Omar Sulaman. Now, she found the line between her and her torturers blurred.

Though she didn't specify, Alex placed two and two together. "The Wolf?"

She merely nodded, still gripping his arm painfully like he'd slip away. The desperation her pleads carried haunted him.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," He saw red, only able to suppress his anger by making this promise. Without hesitation, he levelled their faces together, mumbling reassurance of _I'm not going anywhere._

In the moonlight, Alex could still see the faint tint of pink that stained her nose—he compared it to the pink chrysanthemums he saw earlier today. How could anyone still look this enchanting while sobbing was a mystery to him, though he was staring right at the answer.

She never ceased to amaze him.

"I'm with you, okay? Always." This sentence never lost its genuineness. He'd do anything for her—the world begins and ends where she says so.

She felt his lips move against her ear, and her racing heart slowly composed itself from his assurance. Losing composure was uncommon for her, but even in this exception, she was sagacious enough to know the air between them had long changed.

Refusing to play host to her desire, her head stay lowered. She opted to wipe her tears and joked about how she didn't want his ghost to haunt her, hoping a distraction would alleviate her pounding heart.

Despite her prayers, Alex tilted her chin upwards to meet him, "Never happening."

They were so close. "Even when you're a ghost?"

"Mhm. I'm pretty hard to shake."

"You'd definitely be one of those annoying ghosts... With no sense of boundaries."

The magnetic allure of her lips called to him. On its own accord, his thumb ghosted ever so slightly over her parted lips, stealing a sharp breath from them both. They were dead silent.

And something in Alex warned him to reduce his voice to a whisper, afraid that he might scare this moment away, "Boundaries... You want it...?"

Everything was electrified. His touch, his gaze. Alexis worked hard not to crumble under his intense stare.

Then it happened, his gaze fell on her lips. She definitely didn't imagine that.

"Do you?" she deflected. Mildly embarrassed that her voice had the abraded texture of stone against stone.

Even when her lungs screamed for air, Alexis still forgot to breathe. She was busy listening to the angel and the devil warring inside her, pleading to her rationality. It was clear which side won when she closed her eyes.

Her world was pitch black. Senses put into overdrive. The touch along her jawline felt like it burned. She thought if this was what being set on fire felt like, she'd gladly pay the price.

His breath fanned across her nose. And then their noses touched.

Alexis felt horrible for her overworking heart, rapidly pumping oxygen to her brain—she certainly dared not to breathe, terrified to screw this up. Maybe there was a screeching voice inside her head, but it was fogged by her desires.

Tingles rushed through her when his lips brushed her own, the velvety feeling of it already so addictive. Alexis closed her eyes, waiting for the impact, and then–

A sharp knock forced them both apart.

She almost got whiplash from how fast she turned to the door, making her clutch her head in pain. The silhouette of Kyle Garrick stood in front of them, head still bowed while reading a prescription off a medicine tube.

"Nero- no, Neosporin," he cluelessly recited. "Antibiotic cream." When Kyle finally raised his head, a look of doubt crossed his face upon the flustered duo.

He awkwardly tossed the tube to Alex. "Okay... Weird vibe. Alia said to apply it or else."

"Thanks, Garrick," Alexis grimaced at her slightly pitchy voice, "Um. Get some rest, yeah?"

"Mhm. As you were..."

The door closed after him. Tensed at the shuffling sounds behind her, her brain replayed the scene much to her protest.

"Still want me to stay?" Alex said in a low voice. She hadn't realised she was still staring at the empty doorway.

 _What was that?_ She never loathed her noisy thoughts more than this moment. _Oh fucking fuck, shit. I'm so stupid._

 _No... Why am I embarrassed? He initiated the stupid kiss!_ She reasoned, digging for some form of consolation to find the courage to snap around, preparing herself for what might come next. But she wasn't expecting the smug smile he so proudly wore. She then wondered if she should feel relieved or nervous. 

But as a wave of dizziness forced her to grab a handful of bedsheets, she inwardly spoke gratitude that she didn't have to decide. 

_What was this? What were they, really?_ Too many questions and too little answers.

"Come on, it's past your bedtime," Alex pulled her back into the bed and started to administer the medication on her cheek wounds. Today was already a heck of a day, and with the soothing circles rubbed into her skin, she surrendered to her tiredness.

"Night..."

Upon her steady breathing, Alex tossed the tube across the room and it landed accurately on his vest with a soft thud. His finger outlined a path from her forehead and hovered hesitantly above her lips. The very same one he shouldhave already felt.

_Thanks, Garrick._

A frustrated sigh escaped him, loud enough to make Alexis nuzzle deeper into him, an arm draped over his waist.

He laid back down, replaying their scenes from earlier. A bolt of lightning might as well strike him now—maybe that would explain the bursting feeling in his chest.

"Wow," he mouthed in realisation. "I'm a damn idiot."

Years ago when she tipsily ended up on his doorstep desperate for him to take the pain away, he willingly obliged. No denials that he had the biggest selfish reason to say yes.

 _Fuck_ , it was a strange feeling to finally get all that he dreamt of. That night, he was too busy planning a confession in his head to sleep. But by dawn, the demons inside him questioned if he truly deserved someone like Alexis.

Someone like her? For him? It was too good to be true. His mind raced with the "What ifs?"

_"What if our jobs clashed?"_

_"What if I put her in danger?"_

_"What fucking if the long distance fucks everything up?"_

Their friendship would be in shreds. And she was one of the– _the most_ important person in his life. No way would he lose her.

So he pushed her away—looked her in the eyes and lied. For Heaven's sakes, he wanted to punch himself. And he knew he made the right decision because when their friendship took a hit for a few weeks, the loneliness was unparalleled.

He didn't want to feel that way again. Ever.

Alex might have kept their friendship, but at the cost of _everything_. He liked to picture how different things would have been, if not for his cowardice. He thought about it frequent enough to imprint a permanent gnaw in his heart.

Now, here it was. A bloody second chance. _His second chance._

Alex peered down to the butterfly tattoo on his bare chest, smiling. _The universe's proof, alright,_ he whispered, "Gotcha."

The night ended with Alex falling into dreams of the woman he loved.  
  



	9. A Witness and Witless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A realisation for Alexis, kindly dished by Captain Price. Meanwhile, danger is a gift that keeps on giving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a minute to say thank you to all of you! I never thought Killer Instinct would receive so much love, but here we are, truly, thank you lovers.

_29 October 2019, 0500  
_ _"Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces  
_ _CIA with SAS and Urzik militia  
_ **_Sakhra, Urzikstan_ **

Having her forehead split open had its benefit. Okay, maybe that was arguable, but Alexis was mildly grateful that the unbearable stings stirred her awake. It saved from her reliving a gauche situation: sleeping limbs entangled with her best friend, who she almost kissed, _again_.

They were practically squashed together, her head pillowed against his firm chest. Seeing how paranoid and sharp to his surroundings Alex was, his iron grips were challenging to snake out of it, good thing she had practice.

Here, at 5 am, while others were desperately chasing some sleep, Alexis was too engrossed in her own thoughts. The past 24 hours happened like a flash, and the Wolf was her highlight, making her fidget uncomfortably just at the thought. 

_You should have fought harder, been stronger, not falter at his baseless threats._ Alexis had no one but herself to blame for allowing the Wolf to escape. The guilt her mistake carried fuelled the fire inside her, with revenge as additional gasoline to the mix. 

The Chinese had a saying: "for what you do upon me, I'd unleash it ten times worse." Omar Sulaman would regret ever threatening her. 

Seeking refuge under a dying tree at the residence's courtyard, she brooded in reflection. At least she figured out an end goal for the Wolf, but the friendship between Alex and her was shaky, _at best_. Alexis released an exhale of pent-up frustration, fingers weaving her chocolate locks into a braid. So immersed with overthinking, she almost failed to catch Price's approaching footsteps. 

"No rest for the wicked, eh?" He arched a concerned brow at her stitches.

Alexis cracked a smile, "'Course." Patting beside her, she gestured for Price to take a seat with her on the patch of dried grass. "Please, don't be a nanny. Just sit down."

"Fantastic. I'm in no mood for that either," Price replied. His face briefly caught silvers of golden rays, accentuating the eye bags and fine lines that revealed just how much Price had aged since their last encounter. Even without the combat vest, his broad shoulders remained permanently slouched.

Alexis smelled smoke before the wisps floated past her. Witnessing how it relaxed Price, she shuts her mouth. "Something wrong?" she guessed, feeling the passing smoke layer her tongue with a woody fragrance, suddenly feeling the need to spit.

"The Butcher... Bastard didn't even spare a kid." Price took another deep inhale.

Alexis sighed, "We'll make him pay."

"Damn right." The price of war was a hefty one. And Alexis idolised John Price for his unwavering tenacity. By far, he was the most unbreakable person she'd ever met.

"So..." Alexis steered the topic, "What cover story did you tell Maddox and Forbes this time?"

Price scoffed lightly, a light-hearted undertone in his words, "Ah, I didn't bother. Bloody bitch about it, is all they do." Though Price, Maddox and Forbes all knew each other, Alexis always questioned what kind of Doomsday loomed over the world for a SAS Captain, Task Force Black's commander and a CIA handler to cross paths. Candidly, it made her excited to know why. 

"Something going on between you and Alex?" Price questioned abruptly. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." She confidently lied, ignoring the tingling sensation on her lips. 

"For your sake, I hope you lie better when you're on the job," he mocked. Did she develop a tell? How did Price always know?

"Ah, it's just a bunch of gossips, don't feed into it."

"It's a reliable source," that piqued her curiosity.

"Kyle," she deadpanned, twisting her body towards Price. "Call MacTavish, I'm gonna skin Kyle alive."

Price hummed, giving her an amused look, "That'd be a waste of talent. So it's true, you two dating?"

She didn't even know the answer herself, so she replied with something safe, "We're friends, always have been." Her gaze averted to the small wildflowers blossoming under the base of the tree she leaned on. Chrysanthemums, its deep red petals swaying gently against the wind currents, almost like a greeting wave. Alexis scratched her head at the timely symbolism.

"Don't get stupid, you know better than most that nothing lasts forever," Price chided with a distant look in his eyes. "That boy looks at you like there isn't a war waging on."

Alexis sighed, twirling the stalks of red chrysanthemum hesitantly, "That's the problem. Wars are happening, it's selfish."

The Captain huffed almost disappointedly, "There's always a war. You see something you want, you best hold onto it before something blows it up."

"Shouldn't you advise me against fraternisation, _Captain_?" She smiled.

Staggered smokes escaped when Price let out a short laugh, "Whoever tries to boss you around is an idiot. Do I look like one?"

"No, no you're not," she chuckled, always finding wisdom in Price's words. So when he told her the way Alex looked at her wasn't platonic, she believed him. Not like it was unbelievable or anything. The way he tirelessly searched for her in a crowd every few moments—then smile when their gaze meets. With ample practices over the years, she'd successfully ignored how much he burned her insides with a simple look.

Now, maybe she didn't need to. 

Alexis was always more of a spy than a soldier—at least, that was what Maddox always said about her. A natural God instinct to read the room, practically able to _smell_ the changes like a bloodhound. Yet she was slow to pick up on the change in their friendship.

Slow, and a little reluctant. Now that she opened the floodgates that she guarded for so long, every possible feeling punched their way to her heart.

She was _still_ in love with Alex. A chilling sensation ran over her spine when she inwardly admitted that. It puzzled her if it was relief or nerves? Either way, it jolted a new kind of excitement in her. Every exhale felt lighter.

"And what about you and Laswell?" Alexis retorted smugly, enjoying the rare stunned expression that slipped onto her mentor's face. "C'mon, give me some credit _. The most impressive agent you've ever come across_ , right? I read your debrief about me from the Caucasus mission."

At his threatening frown, she held up surrendering hands, "Alright, alright! I'm done here."

Price ignored her teases, stubbing out his cigar at the base of the tree. "The Caucasus... That's what, 7 years ago? You just made JSOC back then." 

Alexis cackled at the memory, "Back then you didn't have this glorious moustache. Remember when I pulled a knife on Mactavish?"

"Scared the lad shitless. Didn't show it, but sure as well saw it," Price continued, a smirk present on his face. 

"I sure as hell _felt it._ Mactavish's pulse was jumping." Then she paused, realising Price purposely dodged her questions. So she tried again, "Don't avoid my questions, I'm a great matchmaker!"

He shot her a look, "Says the oblivious fool."

"Touche. But still-"

Luckily, Hadir spotted them, sliding open the residence's glass door and jogged up to them. "Oh, Hadir! Thank goodness you're here, Price was about to murder me."

Hadir squinted in confusion. "Ignore her," Price got to his feet and dusted the grass off his camo pants, sending the gleeful agent a hard glare. "Lass hit her head too hard, she's spewing rubbish. Careful, Hadir." He patted Hadir's back and started to head back to the house.

"C'mon mate!" Alexis yelled after him with a butchered English accent. "I said I'm sorry!" She laughed at Price's slightly gapped mouth.

"Did I mention?" His hands steadied against the sliding door, "You're benched!"

With that, Price slid the glass door closed, wearing an amused expression as she yelled pleads after him with no avail. "Petty old fellow." 

Hadir sat on Price's previous spot, gracing her with a chocolate bar. Unlike commercial ones, military chocolate hardly tasted edible—for somebody who hated chocolates, it was a torture to sink her teeth into the hard cocoa blocks. "Hadir, you couldn't find anything else?"

"It's chocolate!"

"You think."

His enthusiasm didn't die down as he chowed down his own energy bar, but after a few chews, Hadir promptly stuck out his tongue in disgust, earning a burst of hearty laughter from Alexis, "People eat this?"

"Dumb soldiers do. But the smart ones..." Alexis pulled out a packet of biscuits from the side pocket of her pants, wiggling in front of Hadir. She snatched the cup of hot water from him and dunked the biscuits in, much to his protests. Seconds later, the biscuit softened to a texture that resembled a sponge cake. Alexis urged the wide-eyed Hadir to take a bite.

Hadir was sceptical until he tried it, pleasantly surprised. He praised, "Finally, some food fit for humans!"

"Genius, right?" He nodded in agreement, passing her the cup to share. "And I can see that look in your eyes that you want to ask if I'm okay, so answer your question: I'm fine, although I'm sick of people asking me that. Thinking about tattooing the answer across my forehead, wanna help?"

"Horrible idea... Count me in. But no, not your injuries, here," he pointed at his heart. "You feel bad for letting the Wolf go, I know. It's not your fault, Alena– Alexis," he corrected. "Your names are confusing."

The smirk on her face faltered slightly. Though it quickly returned, Hadir already saw the cracks in her smile. Then she decided not to bother with the facade. "I should have fought harder. I imagine there are people who should be alive right now if not for me."

"Like I said, not your fault. In all my years, you got my sister and me closer than we've ever been to end this war... We've lost many brothers and sisters to get to this point. Between Barkov and the Wolf, I'm not sure which of these dogs are worse." His words had a certain edge in them, reminding her how much this war changed Hadir. "But they are not careless men. Why did the Wolf keep you alive?"

"Said he wanted to watch me suffer," Alexis answered honestly, hesitantly taking another bite of her dessert. "Jokes on him. I'm gonna crush him. _We're_ gonna fucking crush them."

Hadir pulled his legs closer to his chest, returning a small smile when she rested a comforting hand on his knees, "With a big enough stone, right?"

"Damn right."

* * *

Even with the miraculous arrival of a second chance, it doesn't mean Alexis made it easy. Now was the perfect example for his argument. 

"Maybe you _did_ hit your head too hard—look in the mirror and tell me if you see a large cut across your forehead, because I might be seeing things." He pinched his nose bridge in distress. Price had tasked the _very_ injured Alexis to sweep houses with Bravo Team, take it easy and all.

Alexis wore a polite smile and calmly said, "Fuck you."

"How eager," he retorted, knowing just the way to irk her. 

She threw up her trusty middle finger, "Hard pass." 

_Really?_ She thought, _playing hard to get is so 2002, Alexis._

"Really?" He moved closer, and except for a hardened face, Alexis did nothing to stop him. Trapped between Alex and a table, she breathily observed the blue flecks in his irises, avoiding his alluring pink lips that was definitely calling to her. "Trouble breathing?"

Alexis swallowed her nerves, "The only trouble I'm having is my lack of personal space."

"Ouch..." His head fell defeatedly on her shoulder, chuckling. "Lexi, _honey_..." he gilded, eyes boring into her own. She kept still and bit her tongue at the pet name, watching his gaze travel down her face, maybe her lips. 

Alex pressed more of his weight against her, "Be a good girl for me. Consider I said please."

Her heart quickened, sparing a quick glance at the wide-open door full of Marines who stood oblivious to their actions, but if they continued standing in this position, it was just a matter of time. "You're adding to the rumours..."

"So everybody thinks we're dating, big deal." He slammed the door shut to prove a point.

_Are we? What is this between us?_

She tasted the words on the tip of her tongue. Alex's flirting had become painfully obvious that she wasn't the sole player of this game anymore. And instead of addressing it, her wickedness took over—lightly chewing down her lips just to confirm her suspicions again. 

A knowing smile slowly builds when he took the bait.

Alex blinked rapidly, retreating instantly. His attempt to clear his throat was pathetic, voice throaty as he said, "You're going with Bravo, no arguments."

"Like hell. The medic cleared me!"

Alex paused thoughtfully, rolling up his sleeves up his forearm. If this was his sly attempt to distract her, it worked. Reasons beyond her, his tattooed arms were incredibly attractive. "Was that before or after you threaten him?"

 _He didn't..._ Alexis recalled the _easily_ _convinced_ medic. Sue her for having a way with words. She smiled sweetly, refocusing on packing her combat bag, "You have no proof."

"Tell that to your face," he rolled his eyes. "Babe, come on, there's not enough time for me to tie you to a bed."

She'd admit to almost choking at his unexpected comment. Like a good spy, she hung a scowl at his charming smirk—refusing to play into his trap. Then, she internalised his appearance, styled hair, in the middle of a war. Still so vain. Probably trying to impress her, _cute_.

"Number one, you're god damn shameless–"

"I call it honesty," he shrugged.

"Outrageous, not to mention scandalous-" she corrected. 

Alex huffed, throwing his head back briefly. 

"Number two, I'm pretty sure Wade outside there, who was shot in the thigh is _still_ on the mission. Talk about a double standard."

Usually, this danger zone was when Alex would back off. But today, she was convinced he had an intensified case of a stick up his ass. Still, he brazenly took the loaded magazines off her hands. "I'm trying to not treat you any differently from the boys, if that's what you're implying. I just don't want anything else to happen to you, Alexis."

"But I _am_ different, Alex! I'm not the boys," the menace in her voice was hard to miss, a stark juxtaposition to the playfulness, " _I don't want_ to be one of the boys. Read my damn resume, you really think this injury will be the one to do me in?" Her neck craned upwards to meet him, "I'm still standing. I can do this."

Alex finally uncrossed his arms and nodded, "Okay."

She cast a suspicious sideways glance, "That's it?"

Alex hummed– _actually hummed_ this time. Her eyebrows shot heavenward, which amused him. "You expected a few more rounds, didn't you?" At her nod, "I trust you, that's all."

"Huh... Usually, you'd try harder. Say something melodramatic like: No, Alexis! You'll quite possibly die, bleed out to death–" 

"Defamatory, I do not sound like that," he insisted upon her dramatic pause and casual dismissal of hands.

Alexis poked accusingly into his chest, "Something's wrong with you." He smirked like he knew something she didn't, and ironically, she did. _You're not that slick, Romeo. Two can play this game._

"Funny. Here I thought a master profiler like yourself had better skills."

Part of her questioned if it was a double meaning, but shook it off. Grabbing her stolen magazines from his grasp, "Come on, we have a war to fight."

She wondered if Alex's blood had always run so hot when she reached over to grab his arm, surely she wasn't the only one who felt that. But Alex remained silent and allowed her to push him towards the door. They were about to step out until her satellite phone sounded. The two shared looks of caution at the odd notion, her phone hardly rang. Alex was the designated communication channel, and with Price's arrival, he carried that responsibility.

Unless it was an emergency... She quickly accepted the call. "This is a secured line, identify yourself and how you got this number."

_"I have my ways. Good to hear you're still breathing."_

Her shoulders relaxed, "Ruddiger. Why wouldn't I– Did something happen?"

 _"Saint, listen carefully, I don't have much time."_ She mumbled a quick apology before kicking him out the room.

"Okay, I'm ready."

 _"After you left, we got a tip about Valhalla's safe house. It was a scam to draw our attention away from Boucher."_ Her stomach clenched at the ominous feeling. " _He's dead. Someone got to him."_

"In the _Hostel_? That's not possible." The whole point of a Blacksite was that it didn't exist.

 _"It's true, Saint. I saw his body with my own eyes. We found a tracker_ — _plastic polymer, explains why it didn't show up when we wanded him."_ He continued when Alexis didn't reply, _"This shit gets worse. They got a list... Of everybody who's on the op."_

Her heart stopped right then, "No fucking way. Where are you now? And wait, this is high-level intel, how do you-"

_"I'm officially CIA, thanks to your glowing recommendation. So technically, I'm also here to say I owe you one. The welcoming committee sucks, they're putting us in safe houses. All except you."_

Then Alex burst through the doors, signalling it was time to move, but paused at her ghastly face. She held up a shaky hand, "Well, fuck, _mon sauveur_ , huh? Thanks for the intel, but you do know you just broke protocol?"

From the anxious rubs on her face, Alex knew something was really wrong.

Ruddiger laughed on the other line, _"Consider it my gratitude for your olive branch. I gotta go. Stay safe, Saint. You'll never know how far Valhalla can reach."_

"I'm in the middle of a war. He'll never find me here," she braved through the unsteadiness in her voice. When the call ended, she remained on the chair, still profoundly dumbstruck. She didn't know which was worse: that someone managed to infiltrate a Level 10 CIA blacksite, spooking Valhalla, or that her name was sitting somewhere on a hit list.

Another question bagged her, was it her _real_ name? A thousand worries crashed down onto her. Why haven't Forbes or Maddox called?

"Hey," Alexis jumped at the touch, instilling more fret in Alex, who kneeled before her chair. "You're shaking. You okay?"

Alexis knew Alex wouldn't stop until he got an answer. Yet she couldn't give it to him, she'd put him in danger.

"Always," she mustered the biggest smile she could. And because of that, Alex saw right through her. But there wasn't time to dig further, they had a war to fight. Besides, for all she knew, she was safe, _for now._

If Forbes or Maddox haven't called, it meant she was still safe. She'd focus on that.

When she wordlessly slung her rifle and holstered her guns, there was a heavier feeling bubbling inside her. Alexis didn't have a good omen, but she couldn't pinpoint if her gut was referring to today's war, or the brewing one.

_Ah fuck, is there a difference? War is war._

War is war, was her final thought as she got ready to start a day full of tragedies.

Alexis should have listened to her gut. 


	10. The Price of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of Highway of Death told from Alex's perspective. Alexis' real name is finally uncovered, and one of her captors' identity is also revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Hadir's betrayal, character death, flashbacks of almost death.

"Come on, stay with me!" an unfamiliar voice bounced around her head.

Was Alexis dreaming again?

Alexis was _definitely_ dreaming again. Which was how she knew this was reality. Because she knew when she balanced over the thin line between life and death, she would dream. Sometimes she dreamt of hungover mornings and coffee runs with Maddox and the crew, inhumane circuit laps with Mactavish and Price, or the countless times Alex talked her ears off with the desire for another tattoo. 

The pain that ached all over her body, accompanied by the abnormal brush of coldness told her it was time. _Time to meet your maker._

She heard this joke once, and this sure as hell was the punchline.

"...keep squeezing... hand–"

 _Hadir?_ Was... was she really dreaming? This couldn't be real.

Worse were the dreams conjured by fear. The ones that took her right back to St.Petersburg to stare down the shimmering flames. The feeling of raw flesh after endless interrogations. And the reminder of wearing her blood like a second skin. It was she never left that tiny jail cell. 

Alexis remembered the crackling of the flames. It was all that filled her ears. Her captors were missing. She was in the middle of nowhere. 

The fire blazed a slow path straight for her like she was the final goal to reach. It tore down wooden crates, engulfed the flimsy curtains and went straight for her. Like the fire had a mind of its own and knew it wanted her. 

This was it, the end of her legacy. Her stories were etched in flesh, and her book would be the grey stone in Arlington.

The salty tears streaming down her bruised eyes should have hurt, but didn't. The roaring fire snuffed out most of the oxygen and thinned the air. Her head was growing heavier by the seconds, eventually resting it against the grimy walls. 

_There are worse ways to go,_ she tried convincing herself.

When she started to drift away, she summoned enough energy to raise a fingertip over the wall—finding her name carved into the stones. Her _real_ name.

Maybe, _hopefully,_ somebody would remember her.

Her dreams manifested into her sleep over time. When she dreamt of St.Petersburg, she'd wake up with her mouth gaped wipe, like she paused mid-scream. Her fingers would tremble and she'd force herself to give in to her shaking legs and remain seated. She'd whisper to herself that it was only a dream. It'll stop. 

Until it didn't. 

Today, with her back on the ground, eyes rolled back, Alexis dreamt again.

The worst wasn't knowing she was going to die—that was the price of war. She had long made peace with the Grim Reaper. _It was knowing she finally had something to live for._

Maybe this time her dream wouldn't stop. 

* * *

**FIVE HOURS EARLIER**

_29 October 2019, 0730_   
_"Alex"_   
_CIA with Urzik militia_   
**_Darus, Urzikstan_ **

Alex hopped off the truck, inwardly expressing gratitude that after _hours_ , they'd finally arrived at their destination. Though the aura of a village filled with rubble and dust in its silence put him off.

Ribbons of the early sun had already splashed across cerulean blue canvas. Behind him, Alexis blew a low whistle. He turned around to discover her standing in the middle of the elevated road—looking heavenward.

"What a view. Exactly the one I pictured–" Alexis marvelled.

Alia stopped her, "You picture your death?"

"Of course. You'd be surprised how disappointing death can be."

Alex kept a blank face despite feeling his heart drop. Apparently his cold shoulder treatment was starting to draw attention—evident when Farah arched an inquisitive brow beside him.

He returned with a shrug, still nursing his anger. He was pissed to be kept in the dark about Alexis' mysterious call. Her standoffish behaviour was from an all too familiar playbook that Alexis always operated out of—the masterful art of dodging.

It was exactly what happened after St.Petersburg. Which was why Alex had to intervene before it took a turn for the worse.

_"You're out of it. Anything I should know?"_

_"What should you know?"_

_Answer a question with a question._

_"If you want to lie to my face, go ahead. But I won't stand here and pretend to believe you."_

"For CIA, you have no idea how to deal with women." Farah nudged him up the flight of stairs.

Only then did Alex realised he was spacing out. Although that couldn't stop him from thinking about how the early sun practically bathed Alexis with a halo. "Or... I know exactly what I'm doing," he smirked, climbing two steps at a time.

Farah smacked his arm, "Ah, don't play the game, play the man. I believe that's what you Americans call it." In combat, Farah was all expressionless and cold, but when the commander was out of the field, sometimes she allowed a certain amount of lightness to grace her smiles. They bumped fists with a knowing grin.

"Zip it," behind them, Alexis knocked Alia's head loudly, "Don't even _think_ about dying."

"They'll have their hands full with her up there," Farah mused.

He heard Alia's terrible attempt at whispering—asking Alexis what he pictured for his deathbed. The cunning young lady certainly deserved an ovation. In more ways than one, Alia really was the splitting image of a young Alexis. Another loud _whisper_ came from the young girl. "What do you mean he's not angry! You must be blind."

Alex recalled that one particular vacation in Bali that birthed this conversation. Just the two of them laying on the beach, free of woes and war. Three years felt like a lifetime ago.

_"Throw me out of a helicopter, shoot me out a canon. I want my corpse to rain from the sky."_

_"Go out with a bang?"_ Alexis sipped on her frozen margarita, laying on a beach chair unbothered by the world. _"That is very you."_

Surely that sounded like an exaggeration. But if Alex had it his way, he would. Unfortunately, there was already a plot in Arlington reserved for him.

"Something like a sky burial," Alexis answered for him. Flashes of her chocolate hair loose on her shoulders and sunburnt cheeks left his mind. Alex felt her eyes burn into his back. "He's... weird."

"I heard that."

Several wobbly ledges later, they reached the vantage point that overlooked the highway, Hadir passed them two custom made sniper rifles. A larger than usual smile appeared on Alexis as she geeked at the custom rifle. It was almost comical—her jumping around while donning a ridiculous head gauze. While Hadir's impressive rifle put her in a good mood, Alex suspected it was Hadir, Farah and Alia responsible for this lighter shell of Alex.

He missed this version of her—not haunted by demons of her past. Trust it to be Urzikstan to draw out this side of her again. He'd do anything to make this Alexis stay.

"I'd watch that recoil, Lexi."

Alexis flashed a smile, pushing past him, "And I'd worry about your shots, babe. Trajectory is a bastard in this wind."

He set into a prone position right beside her, getting into tune with the new rifle. Then, Alexis cleared her throat loudly, winking into her sniper scope.

"Say, this cold shoulder treatment is getting a little old..."

A second later, she fired a clean shot into a watermelon 600 yards away. Hadir rejoiced in his native language, "Your fruit killing skills are remarkable, Alexis!"

"Don't I know it," Alexis winked. He sensed her scheming face before she even wore it, "Alex, since we're out here swatting flies, what do you say to a friendly competition?"

That interested him, "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she shrugged. "One minute. Whoever shoots the most is the winner. And the loser..." There was a glint in her eyes, "Has to do anything the winner says."

His eyes landed briefly on her grinning lips before he agreed.

The playing field was set: plastic bottles, some rotten fruits and crates. His index finger rested snuggly on the trigger, head lowered to dial into the scope.

"Okay! One minute starts..." Farah paused, "Now!"

Pulling the trigger was an unconscious effort by now, a steady exhale later and in between heartbeats, he fired. Right off the bat, he shot through one plastic bottle nested across the highway. Beside him, Alexis missed her shot, mumbling about how the recoil was too strong.

"Is the prize not enticing enough?" he mused, aiming for his second trophy.

"Only if you lose," her airy laughter made it hard to suppress another smile.

Within fifty seconds, it was a tie. It came down to the final plastic bottle. It was difficult to line a shot with the sun glaring right at him. Still, Alex kept his shoulders levelled and spoke with confidence, "Any last words?"

"You first."

_Exhale._

_Shoot._

Heart hammering in his chest, they watched collectively as the single bullet tore through the plastic bottle, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. 

"And that's how it's done!"

Alex tilted back to reach Hadir's high-fives. "My brother, your biggest fan," Farah smiled.

For someone who lost a bet, she didn't play the role. With a charming smile, Alexis' fingers snaked the curve of his wrist. Alex pretended she didn't just jolt him awake with a simple touch, "So. What am I supposed to do?"

"I know just the thing," a brash grin slipped back onto Alex's face, thinking how he had more luck than skills. Or maybe it was an added motivator. 

* * *

Everything went wrong quick and fast.

When Price radioed with news, they expected the Wolf to scramble their way. What they didn't expect was Barkov's company.

Alexis split from the group, taking main overwatch at the next building beside them. Her injuries worried him. But their promise to inexplicably trust each other in the field triumphed his concerns. An enemy sniper across the highway was picking Farah's army off one by one. And Alexis... "Dropped his ass!"

 _That's my girl_.

Winking into his own scope, he burst the tires off a suicide truck with a single shot. The one upside about this shit show was that Barkov's army helped clean up the Wolf's men for them.

He dodged back into cover just in time when a bullet whizzed past him. _Shit_ , they found him. Farah panicked, "We need help! Where is Captain Price?"

"Won't make it in time! We need a Hail Mary for these fuckers!" Alexis shouted over the crossfire.

He spared a quick glance to check on her. In the blinding sunlight, her hair turned into a colour that reminded him of bitter tea. Several stray pieces of hair stuck against her sweaty neck. Alexis was still holding her weight, but it was obvious she was growing weary. 

But no amount of energy could change the fact that they'd be boxed in by the enemies soon. And Farah and Hadir had too much honour in their cause to retreat. Alexis was right, they needed an ultimatum.

"I've got more firepower in the truck! Alexis, cover us! And Alex, follow me!" Hadir nudged him. Alex left the rifle at his nest and dropped down the ladder to follow Hadir.

"Hadir! _Please_ tell me you have a big enough stone!" Alexis yelled past the gunfires.

"The biggest, sister! They won't know what hit them!" He followed Hadir in and out of different houses.

Without warning, a spray of bullets burst through the battlefield. Alex didn't think much of it until Farah yelled Alexis' name in a state of manic. His first instinct was to charge back in their direction, but Hadir kept a death grip on his forearm, reminding him they only had a small window to make this work.

 _This better fucking work,_ Alex thought. Dying on the Highway of Death would be too prophetic.

"My truck is full of explosives, very powerful explosives, it's time to use them! Open the tailgate, quickly! I'll cover us! Open it, Alex!"

The truck held canisters of– "Russian gas?" The entire time Alexis and he spent looking for leads of the stolen gas...

Hadir stole them?

"Yes! And now we send it back to them!"

It was too late. The tremors of an explosion, the _screamings_. They were lucky not to be swept in the explosion radius, but from the green gas that now terrorised the air, that was the least of Alex's worries. Soldiers irregardless friend or foe, doubled over to cough their lungs out. Blood sprayed ruthlessly in the air before they collapsed.

"You said we needed a big enough stone. This is it, Alexis!"

"No... No no no! Not like this–" Her sentence cut off.

Alex was on autopilot at this point, blindly following Hadir back into a house. Only Farah yelled through the comms, but it was radio silence from Alexis.

 _Please be okay._ Although the raw coughs outside the bunker made him feel foolish for harbouring hope.

The gas worked quick, already blurring his vision. His head spun wildly and his throat scratched. The deadweight of his combat vest alone was enough to make him flop like a raggedy doll. His weakness fed his panic _._ Alex held onto the bunker's walls with every bit of strength still inside him.

 _Alexis,_ he recited over and over again. _Alexandra Ward._

_Bring her home._

_Find her. Find her. Find her._

If Alex hoped the incantation could hold power for him, he was greatly mistaken. One step forward, he crumpled down the floor like an abandoned puppet.

"Hadir–" Alex's vision floated in and out, unable to see Hadir. He briefly registered a new weight over his face. A gas mask. Alex slurred through his words, "Alexis... Find..."

He fought against losing consciousness, not knowing when Farah ended up in the bunker, but only knew she was alone. "Alexis!" he weakly tried their comms again. 

_Fuck, stay the fuck awake. Not like this._

He channelled all the remaining energy he had, however little. He didn't stop, not even when his breathing slowed, his vision now appearing in phases, or his urge to vomit his guts out. Frantic, he reached for anything he could get his hands on–

His fingers flexed, not even able to feel the texture of leather of his gloves. All he could do was that, and blink to keep himself awake. Hadir was mumbling incoherently about something, not wearing even an ounce of regret from the mere silvers of sight Alex peeked through. 

Hadir ran out the door like a coward. Some part of him prayed for the shred of Hadir's humanity to find Alexis.

Alex swore he saw the sun outside melt away, turning his world blue in twilight. His last thoughts were about a certain Bali sky.

* * *

The buzzing of a helicopter shocked him awake. Alex shot up immediately, realising they were still in the bunker. It was deadly quiet, _too_ quiet. Then he realised it was just his blocked hearing.

His world still swirled on its own axis when Price and Kyle came running in. Staring blankly when Price shouted something he didn't understand.

 _Alexis._ The fog in his brain cleared. He kneeled his way over to the unconscious women who laid beside him. Using all his might, he propped her into his lap, fear-stricken when blood stained his hands.

Where did that come from? He hurriedly wiped the molten blood off her head, finding the opened stitches to be the root source.

"Holy shit, captain," Kyle deadpanned, a face full of dread, "This is bad."

Price wasted no time before scooping Alexis up and away to the helicopter.

Alex was thankful for Price who supported the weight he most definitely couldn't: _the weight of Alexis dying in his arms._

* * *

It must have been only a few hours of solitude Alex had since they returned to base. Laswell sent all of them to medical immediately—and Alex answered with a clean bill of health. He might be out of the woods, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

An unmistakable voice roared outside his ward, followed by someone yelling. He cursed loudly when his eyes snapped open. Did everything have to be white and smell of ammonia?

When his door swung open, he immediately shoved his trembling hands into the sanctuary of the hospital gown's pockets. In his doorway, his glazy vision told him someone was propped up by two other figures. Once his vision finally registered who she was, he bolted over. Much like him, she had an IV drip in toll. 

Alex caught her by the waist when she faltered. "Farah," he gave her a once-over, "They cleared you?"

The commander nodded, stepping into his room with feeble steps. Although Alex suspected Farah's ashen face wasn't the result of the toxic gas. He passed her the tray of hot porridge that sat idly on his table.

His hands dropped when Farah eyed it in concern. He cleared his throat, jerking his head to the tray. As expected, Farah rejected it too.

"I'm sorry, Farah," he started, tracing the IV needle embedded in his forearm. For strange reasons, it calmed him. "Hadir..."

"Is my brother," Farah said sharply, "I should have known..." Alex rushed to her defence, but Farah raised her voice in both sadness and anger, "No Alex, I should have _known._ It is my job as his sister. Hadir was losing faith in the militia, but I pretended not to see it."

Alex averted his sight away. Unsure what to say to comfort Farah. He couldn't begin to understand, nor did he want to pretend he could. Farah rubbed an exasperated hand over her face, "Hadir killed most of my men. And..." Her voice wavered, eyes shining brighter under the blinding fluorescent lights.

"Alia," he said on her behalf.

How did everything go sideways so fast? Fivehours ago, all of them were squeezed in the back of a truck, wind in their hair and laughter in their words. Alexis had promised Alia to a hamburger after this shitty war passed, because the war-torn girl had never _seen_ one, let alone tasted one.

"Hadir will pay." Again, Alex remained silent. What could be worse than hunting your own brother? "And if Alexis... doesn't make it..."

Alex sighed, still rubbing circles around his IV. Farah's words all but gutted him.

Alexis tried going back for Alia, which prolonged her exposure. Her open wounds sent her condition from dangerous to life-threatening. The ringing in Alex's ears was so loud but he managed to hear something about chlorine poisoning.

Alex tiredly pressed his palm against his eyes, trying to force the memory of Alexis' rigid body out of his mind but only received another vision of her intubated with an oxygen ventilator. "The Cipro and antitoxin are a wild shot. They're more worried about the fluid in her lungs."

To Alex's surprise, Farah picked up the bowl of porridge to eat. The smallest of smiles tugged across her lips and somehow it made Alex feel much better. "I have no doubt she'll wake in a few hours. She's a tough one."

Alex remained silent. 

"Maybe we should try dangling that forsaken ration pack she loves," Farah tried to joke, but her tone felt otherwise. A few seconds later, she continued, "Alexis survived worse. She will pull through."

Was Farah talking about St.Petersburg? It almost slipped his mind that she was the reason for Alexis' safe return. Well, her and... Hadir.

Hadir's betrayal would break Alexis... If Alia's death wouldn't.

Maybe guilt encouraged Farah to supplement the gaps in Alex's understanding, but she explained everything. From the burning house, Alexis' threatening to leave, to how she delivered Alexis safely to St.Petersburg. Whatever Alex knew was from the mission report, the gruesome details blacked out for clearance. The way she described Alexis' injuries induced nausea in him again.

But something else Farah said intrigued him. "A few weeks after Alexis left, the mercenaries returned to Urzikstan. Demanding blood for the American, they said."

Alex leaned out of his chair upon hearing this. It was a piece of the puzzle the rescue task force was couldn't collect. Even the joint task force of JSOC, CIA and SAS ran up cold leads as to who was behind the kidnapping.

"One of the men mentioned a name, _Gaia_."   
  



End file.
